Molotov Nightmares
by Neena Varscona
Summary: Anubis is set to destroy all of his enemies in one blow, and the key to their survival lies in the dreams of SG1. Warning: JD slash. First time SG1 fic. R&R greatly appreciated.
1. Chapter 1

Pairing: Jack/Daniel

Disclaimer: The Stargate universe and all the characters involved do not belong to me. I'm just borrowing them temporarily for a bit of fun :)

A/N: This is my first fic in the Stargate fandom. Be gentle with me :). Set in mid-Season 7.

* * *

The flashing red lights and claxon alarms were nothing new to the staff of Stargate command. Nor were the words "unscheduled off-world activation" sounding over the P.A. system all that unusual, but they still made Daniel's heart-rate kick up a few notches. He tore down the corridors, joining up with Carter and Teal'c as they came to a common junction and headed for the Control Room. The shimmering light of the wormhole reflected off the back wall of the enormous, three-story high Gate Room before them, the iris shielding the front of the device from possible incoming threats.

"Receiving a Tok'ra signal," said Sergeant Harriman, looking up at General Hammond for further instructions.

"Open the iris," said Hammond.

Daniel, Carter and Teal'c gathered behind Harriman to get a better view of their unexpected guest. In the gate room below, military personnel held their positions along the perimeter of the room and along the ramp leading up to the Stargate, weapons at the ready. The iris scissored open, revealing the serene blue puddle of light. A moment later, Jacob Carter stepped through the event horizon, leaving ripples in his wake.

"Stand down," Hammond ordered, and joined the members of SG-1 in going down to meet their old friend.

O'Neill burst into the Gate Room shortly after they got there, slightly out of breath and looking somewhat abashed. "Did I miss anything?" he asked.

Hammond pursed his lips at him. It was the third time this week Colonel O'Neill had been slow responding to an alarm.

"Oh, c'mon, sir! So I'm a minute late—it's not the end of the world."

"Actually…it might be," said Jacob as he walked down the ramp.

O'Neill cocked his head at the Tok'ra and frowned. "Now why do you guys always have to be so melodramatic about everything? We've done 'end of the world' stuff before, and here's a news flash for ya—the world hasn't ended. So why not lighten up a little? Take a minute to smell the roses…maybe say 'hello' first before jumping directly into the doom-saying."

"Hello," said Jacob, obligingly. "Hey, Sam," he added affectionately as Carter slipped around Teal'c to greet him.

"Hi, Dad," she said, giving him a quick hug.

He pulled back, and his expression grew grave. This was not a social call; no matter how much he wished it were. "George, I have an urgent matter to discuss with you."

"Of course," Hammond replied. "We'll adjourn to the Briefing Room." He led the way, with Jacob and the SG-1 team close behind. Jacob's obvious tension was rubbing off on all of them, and they wasted no further time with niceties.

Once the group was settled around the conference table, Jacob cut right to the chase. "I hate to be the bearer of bad news—again, that is—but the Tok'ra have received intelligence from an undercover operative in Anubis' ranks. It seems Anubis has developed a weapon that could effectively wipe out all of his enemies at once."

A heavy silence fell over the room.

"Well?" asked O'Neill at last. "I assume there's more. This is the part where you're supposed to be passing out the doom and gloom pamphlets."

Jacob's head lowered briefly, and when he looked up again, it was Selmak who spoke. "This is a serious matter Colonel O'Neill. A good man lost his life to pass on this information. Hundreds of planets are relying on us to come up with a way of defending ourselves against this weapon."

"Aha—so you _do_ think we have a chance of destroying it," said O'Neill.

"The weapon is already being tested, and if it's successful, Anubis will use it against all of his enemies. The problem is, the weapon's power source has been moved to a new location—I have the gate address, but the probes we've sent through the wormhole were disabled immediately, once they reached the other side. We sent a volunteer, but he never returned and the weapon remains active. We are sending our nearest ship to the planet's coordinates, but it is located on the outermost reaches of the gate system. It will take a month at the very least to reach it, and by then it will be too late."

"So we send a probe of our own," Carter suggested. "No offence, Selmak, but it couldn't hurt to try one of ours—it's possible our technology might be able to penetrate their defences where yours couldn't. Sometimes low-tech can be better; we've seen it before."

Hammond nodded. "Send out a M.A.L.P. If that doesn't work, send out the U.A.V."

Carter was about to get up to follow his orders when Jacob held up his hand. "There's more," he said, Jacob's voice now issuing from his mouth. "When I said the weapon's being tested, maybe I should have clarified that it's being tested on the Tok'ra and the Tau'ri. Right now, as we speak, someone at Stargate Command is a walking, talking time bomb."

"Care to elaborate?" asked Daniel, in his best 'let's try to keep everyone calm' tone of voice.

"Basically, this weapon is made up of an amalgamation of technologies. Essentially, it's a Goa'uld implant bomb, much like the one used on your young friend Cassandra, but with some modifications that make it far more deadly."

"I do not see how such a thing could be possible," Teal'c said.

"Teal'c's right," said Carter. "Naquadria is the only known substance more powerful than naquadah, and if the bomb was made of naquadria we'd have discovered it by now. All the personnel on site go through extensive medical screening on a regular basis. Such a device would have been picked up on our scans."

Jacob shook his head. "Not this bomb. Its core is naquadria, but the real genius of the bomb's design is that it utilises Tollan phase-shift technology and cloaking technology stolen from the Ancients. The phase-shifting allows the bomb to penetrate your Stargate's iris and lodge itself in the brain of anyone nearby. The cloak blocks the naquadria from any sensors that might be used to detect it, making it impossible to locate using conventional methods."

"But with less conventional methods…?" asked O'Neill, steepling his fingers in front of his lips, doing his best to keep up with the conversation.

Jacob tugged at the hem of his tunic, preparing to relay the part that they weren't going to like. "A week ago the Stargate at Tok'ra command was activated from off-world. We sent a team to investigate, but no one came through the gate. We thought little of it at the time, but we later discovered that that was when the bomb was delivered and became lodged in the brain of one of our soldiers. If we hadn't received intelligence from our undercover operative, we would never have found the device, and our high council would have been decimated."

"So…you found the bomb, then?" asked O'Neill, just to clarify.

Jacob nodded. "We used every scan we could think of, at first, but we had no luck. The person who carries the bomb has no idea it's in him, and there were no medical abnormalities evident in any of the Tok'ra who were exposed when the Stargate was activated. Only when one of the soldiers complained of having difficulties sleeping did we think to search the subconscious mind to find the bomb."

Carter smiled as she caught on: "Of course. Even though the device exists out of phase with our world, the human brain is incredibly complex, capable of functioning on many levels. It makes sense that, at least on a subconscious level, the carrier of this bomb would be aware of its presence."

"Exactly," Jacob said. "We used our memory devices to study the dreams of this soldier and found that he'd incorporated the bomb into his dreams. Everyone else was then tested, but he was the only one carrying a bomb. The operative in Anubis' camp said that two bombs were sent out. We found one…and we believe the other one is here."

Daniel shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "So…this bomb…how exactly did you disarm it?"

Jacob's mouth drew itself into a hard, thin line and he drummed his fingers on the table for a moment before addressing the question. "We can't."

"You _can't_?" said Jack in disbelief. "Don't you mean, you haven't figured out how, just yet?"

"No. I mean we can't. From what we've seen in the dreams, the bomb is set with an automatic destruct to prevent tampering. Even though we now know where it is and could theoretically phase it back into our world, doing so would set off the bomb. We also now know that it's on a timer. There's less than four days left before it detonates, and the only way to disarm it is to destroy its power source…"

"Which is currently one month away at top speed," Daniel concluded grimly.

The room fell silent for a moment as the full impact of the news hit home.

"So if we can't disarm the bomb or destroy the power source, what, exactly, are you proposing we do?" asked Hammond.

"The only thing you _can _do," Jacob replied. "Find out who's carrying the bomb and get him or her as far away from Earth as possible before it's too late."

* * *

Jell-o was never meant to be blue, Daniel thought morosely, making tracks in the colourful dessert with his spoon. Normally he didn't think much about it, but for some reason it was really bugging him today. It was unnatural. It wasn't right. Food should be green or orange, or brown. Blue made no sense. Although, he supposed, blueberries were an exception. His mind dwelled on blueberries for a while and it cheered him up a little. Blueberries were blue by nature. People _liked_ blueberries—they were sweet and unassuming.

Hell—they were just _blueberries, _Daniel chastised himself, and he went back to digging trenches in his Jell-o.

"Is that a new shirt?"

Daniel looked up from his dessert to see Jack O'Neill standing opposite him with a tray full of food. He looked down at the shirt he was wearing—the same, boring black t-shirt he wore every day. The same standard-issue black t-shirt everyone wore. It was a silly question, and it made him smile.

"Mind if I join you?" asked Jack.

"Not at all," Daniel answered.

Jack set his tray down and released his silverware from its paper napkin incarceration. "Did the Jell-o do something to offend you?"

Daniel looked at him questioningly, and then looked at the massacred blue gelatine in his bowl. "I guess I wasn't hungry for dessert," he answered with a shy smile.

Jack ate in silence for a while, watching Daniel poke at his Jell-o half-heartedly. It was odd—usually having lunch with Daniel meant being subjected to a non-stop talk on whatever new piece of ancient stone he'd come across. His friend's subdued behaviour didn't sit right with him.

"You okay?" asked Jack.

Daniel looked up from his bowl distractedly, like he'd forgotten he wasn't alone. "Sorry?"

"You seem a little…distracted. Is there something wrong?"

"I'm sorry, Jack. I guess I'm not great company, am I? I've been burning the midnight oil a little too much lately—I think it's starting to catch up with me."

"I know what you mean," said Jack. "I think we're well overdue for a vacation, don't you? I say, once we've finished saving the world—again—we should hit Hammond up for a week's holiday. You could come fishing with me. What do you say?"

The thought of spending a week alone with Jack—in the middle of nowhere, no less—was enough to make Daniel squirm in his seat, and he was pretty sure some of his uneasiness showed on his face, because Jack immediately backed off.

"Never mind—I'll ask Carter. I figure if I keep pestering her she'll have no choice but to give in eventually."

Daniel felt a pang of guilt seeing the look of disappointment on Jack's face. "I would, Jack. Really, I would. But I've got so many projects on the go—artefacts don't translate themselves, you know. Besides, I've never caught a fish in my life. I'm pretty sure there's something about me that repels them."

"I've never caught anything, either," Jack argued. "That's not the point. Fishing doesn't require the actual catching of fish. It's just meant to be a couple of guys and the great outdoors. No phones, no distractions, and most of all, no Goa'uld. C'mon—would it kill ya to take a break from all this?"

Daniel deliberated for a moment and then nodded. "All right, I'll go," he said, and as Jack's face lit up like a kid with a pocketful of candy, Daniel knew he was getting in way over his head.

"Good," said Jack. "Great! I've got a brand new fire pit I've been itching to try out and a freezer full of nice, thick, filet steaks…"

Their conversation was interrupted when Teal'c arrived, looming above their table like a giant, affable monolith.

"Colonel O'Neill, Daniel Jackson," said Teal'c with a respectful nod. "Major Hammond wishes us to join him in the Briefing Room."

O'Neill eyed his barely touched plate of dinner wistfully. "You see? Now that's why we need to get away. Imagine eating an entire meal without getting called into a briefing."

"Did he say what it's about?" asked Daniel.

"He did not," Teal'c replied. "He merely stated that it was a matter of urgency."

"Then we'd better get down there," said O'Neill. He scraped his chair back from the table and got to his feet, laying his napkin over his unfinished meal as if declaring it dead.

As Jack walked ahead of them, Teal'c took advantage of their relative privacy to ask Daniel a question that had been on his mind since entering the cafeteria. "Am I right in understanding that you have agreed to go fishing with Colonel O'Neill?"

Daniel chewed his lower lip and raised his worried blue eyes to look up at Teal'c. "Uh…yeah," he admitted. "I guess I did."

Teal'c laid a large, sympathetic hand on his friend's shoulder and gave it a hearty pat. "You are a brave man, Daniel Jackson."

* * *

"Please, take a seat, gentlemen," said Hammond as O'Neill, Teal'c and Daniel entered the Briefing Room.

Daniel eyed the assembly warily. Sitting on the opposite side of the table were Jacob, Dr. Fraiser, and a Tok'ra woman he'd never met before. Carter and Hammond had already taken their usual seats and were waiting for them to join them so the meeting could get underway.

"As you all know," said Hammond once everyone was seated, "we have a bomb on this base, and we need to find out who's carrying it. This is Shaneeth," he said, gesturing towards their new Tok'ra guest, who gave them a brief nod in greeting, with not so much as a hint of a smile. "She's here to assist us with the screening process."

"How, exactly, does this screening process work?" asked Daniel, with burgeoning anxiety.

It was Shaneeth who answered. "We'll be using our memory devices to access your dreams, and our holographic projectors to display them."

Daniel's eyes darted from Jacob to Hammond uneasily. "Don't you think that's a little invasive?" he asked, licking his suddenly dry lips.

"We would normally just ask the person what he or she sees, but since it's dreams we're talking about, the projectors are the only viable solution," said Jacob.

Daniel's mouth opened like he couldn't think what to say to that, and he blinked mutely at General Hammond for a full three seconds before finding his voice. "You can't seriously be okay with this," he said. "I mean, we're talking a complete disregard for personal privacy."

Hammond's eyes narrowed at him, and when he spoke, he was all business. "I think it's a very small price to pay to ensure the safety of our planet and potentially billions of people across the galaxy. I'm ordering everyone who was on active duty when the Stargate was activated to undergo the screening process. Myself included."

Daniel's mouth had gone bone dry and he looked from one face to another around the table, hoping to find someone who agreed with him. But it seemed he was the only one who had a problem with it. And he had a _big_ problem with it. "Maybe the screening won't be necessary," he said, hopefully. "Maybe the M.A.L.P. will give us something to work with."

"We sent the M.A.L.P. and the U.A.V.," said Carter. "Both were disabled shortly after they passed through the Stargate. We had telemetry from the M.A.L.P. for a split second before it was taken out, but the information we received was discouraging. The single, static image we were able to retrieve was highly distorted. We managed to clean it up enough to make out the body of the Tok'ra volunteer who went through the gate two days ago. We have no idea what killed him, or what's been disabling our probes."

General Hammond laid his hands flat on the table and surveyed the group gathered before him before settling his attention on Dr. Jackson, who blinked back at him apprehensively. "To expedite our search for the bomb, I've asked Dr. Fraiser to give me a list of anyone who's complained of sleep disturbances in the last week. Dr. Jackson, you were the only one on her list. I'd like to start the screenings with you."

"No," Daniel stated flatly, getting to his feet. Feeling the sting of betrayal, his eyes met Fraiser's across the table and she looked away from him guiltily. "Find some other way. I won't do it."

"Dr. Jackson, this is not a request," said General Hammond, but Daniel ignored him and walked out of the room, leaving the others to stare after him in disbelief.

"Okay," said O'Neill, raising his hand. "Hands up—who here didn't see that one coming?"

On his left, Teal'c hesitantly lifted his hand in the air.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Dream sequences are set off by / . This is my first fic in the Stargate fandom. Be gentle with me :). Set in mid-Season 7.

* * *

Dr. Jackson sat hunched over his desk, his chin resting on his fists, gazing out at nothing in particular. His stomach was twisted up in knots. He knew there was no way out of taking the scan, but that didn't mean he was particularly happy about it. There was a knock at his door and Daniel peered over the rim of his glasses to see Dr. Fraiser enter his office with a sheepish duck of her head. 

"Dr. Jackson—mind if I come in for a minute?" she asked. Daniel stared blankly at her and said nothing. She came in anyway, closing the door behind her. "Listen, Daniel, for what it's worth, I'm sorry. But under the circumstances I felt I had no choice. Even if General Hammond hadn't made it a direct order I would have told him you'd been having nightmares. Countless lives are at stake here—I hoped you'd understand."

Daniel slumped back in his chair and rubbed a hand over his face with a sigh. "I know I overreacted back there, and I know that my precious privacy doesn't come anywhere close to comparing with all the lives that are at stake, but…I _really_ don't like the idea of everyone watching my dreams like it's the Superbowl or something." His blue eyes screwed up at her as if he were trying to will her to understand.

Janet gave him a warm, reassuring smile. "None of us are thrilled at the prospect of having our thoughts probed while we sleep, which is why I've suggested to General Hammond that only two observers be allowed in the room during the scans, one Tok'ra and one member of the SGC."

Daniel thought about it for a moment. "If I have to do this…I'd like you to be the one in there with me. You are my doctor, after all—there's not much of me you haven't seen already anyways."

Janet saw the pleading look on Daniel's face and the mother in her melted. "Of course I'll be there, if that's what you want," she said.

"Thank-you," Daniel said quietly, and waited for her to leave so he could gather his thoughts. But she didn't leave. Instead, she shifted from one foot to the other and looked at him apologetically. "What? Now? I have to do this now? I can't! I'm not even sleepy. Can't they start with someone else? Maybe they'll find the bomb before it's my turn."

Janet shook her head. "You're the most likely suspect—you know that, Daniel."

"I don't remember dreaming about bombs. My nightmares have nothing to do with bombs, I promise you," he said, sounding like an eight year old begging to stay up late on a school night.

"Daniel…" said Fraiser, lifting her eyebrow in a way she'd found effective in dealing with Cassandra when she got stubborn.

Daniel dropped his chin to his chest and took a few seconds to build up his resolve before pushing up off his chair. He passed Fraiser, giving her a sidelong glance, and opened the door. Two stalwart airmen with P-90's stepped in sync to block his exit.

"It's okay, he's coming with me," said Fraiser.

Daniel fell into step next to her and looked at her askance. "You thought I was gonna make a run for it?" he asked incredulously.

Janet raised her large brown eyes at him and gave him a wry smile. "You can never be too sure in this place."

* * *

Jacob Carter and Dr. Fraiser sat in the observation lounge waiting with growing impatience. It had been two and a half hours so far. With the lights turned off and the flickering glow of candles illuminating the isolation room, all that was lacking was a sleeping archaeologist. 

Tossing restlessly on the cot they'd set up for him, Daniel fingered the memory device at his temple and glanced at the one-way mirror. He couldn't see Fraiser and Jacob, but he knew they were there and that was enough to make falling asleep virtually impossible. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't relax. He even tried to kelnorim, but it was useless—his mind was in turmoil and no amount of candlelight and meditation could switch it off.

Finally Daniel gave up and raised himself up onto his elbows to look directly into the mirror. "It's no good," he said. "I feel like I just drank six cups of coffee."

Janet leaned over and whispered to Jacob, as if Daniel might hear her is she spoke any louder. "Would a sedative throw off the memory device?"

"It shouldn't," Jacob replied. "And if you don't knock him out, I have a feeling we'll be sitting here all night waiting."

Janet's lips thinned. She didn't like the idea of resorting to drugs to get Daniel to sleep, but they didn't have the luxury of time. Reluctantly, she took her leave of Jacob and entered the adjoining isolation room.

Daniel sat up as she approached. "I don't suppose you've come here to tell me I can go home now."

"I'm just going to give you something to help you sleep." With her best bedside demeanour, Fraiser set to work preparing a hypodermic needle.

Daniel sat quietly, watching her work. He flinched a little as the needle unloaded its stinging lump of venom under the skin of his left arm. As he lay back down, he grabbed hold of Fraiser's hand and she turned her startled brown eyes on him.

"Tell me everything will be alright," he said, already starting to feel the effects of the sedative. He blinked groggily up at her, fighting it all the way. "Tell me I haven't ruined everything." His eyelids had become too heavy to keep open despite his efforts, and he finally gave in and let them close.

Janet watched him battle against the drug, his brow deeply trenched in a frown even after the rest of his body had gone limp. She had no idea what he meant by what he'd just said, but she felt compelled to answer him, nonetheless. "Everything will be just fine, Daniel. Now relax and go to sleep."

Daniel's brow slowly unfurled and his mouth went slack. He was out. Dr. Fraiser gently set his hand back down at his side and gave his hair a gentle pat. She'd known the nightmares he'd been having were bad enough to make him come to her for help, but his recent behaviour had her worried. Either the dreams were being unnaturally induced by the bomb, or they were being naturally produced by his subconscious mind—and they were clearly having a profound psychological effect on him. In any case, she had a bad feeling Daniel was in trouble.

* * *

Jacob Carter had just finished calibrating the holographic projector when Fraiser returned to the observation lounge. The projector was displaying very little—just the odd spark of light or the ghostly shapes of faces and bodies in a swirling blackness. 

"Are you sure that thing's working?" asked Janet, trying to make sense of the dark, garbled images.

"It's working fine," Jacob assured her. "The drugs you gave him pushed him into a deep sleep—deeper than he would have gone had he fallen asleep on his own. Give it a little time, the dreams will come."

Janet took a seat, settling in for the long haul. "Any word on how General Hammond is doing?" she asked.

"I just checked in with Sam," he answered. "She said he's been out like a light for the last two hours. No bomb sightings as yet." Hammond had taken it upon himself, as a gesture of good faith towards Dr. Jackson, to volunteer to undergo the scan at the same time. He was in the VIP suite at that very moment with Shaneeth and Sam monitoring his dreams.

It was another forty minutes before anything of interest showed up on the projector. Jacob prodded Fraiser, who'd started nodding off, letting her know it was time.

"Looks like we've got REM," he said.

* * *

/Not surprisingly, perhaps, the first images that appeared were of a great pyramid and a vast landscape of blowing sand. Three pale moons hung in the sky overhead, and apart from the pyramid itself, they were the only thing of interest to be seen. Soon Colonel O'Neill appeared in the dream, dressed in desert fatigues, his short hair ruffled and dusty from the wind. 

"You _can_ get us home, can't you Jackson?" he asked. He looked severely pissed.

"No," said Daniel. "At least, not until I find out what the seventh symbol is."

"That's not good enough. My men here are counting on you. You said—no, you _guaranteed_—that you could get us home. That's the only reason we came through the gate in the first place."

The sand behind O'Neill swirled up into twin twisters which then transformed into Skaara and Kawalski—O'Neill's men—who looked equally irate at Daniel's ineptitude. Their eyes flashed a cold white and Skaara spoke, his voice the deep, resonant bass of a Goa'uld. "Bring us home, Dan-yel."

"You know I can't do that," said Daniel. "It's too late for you—I'm sorry."

"Tell him," said Goa'uld-Kawalski, his glowing eyes turning to look at the back of Jack's head menacingly.

"No," said Daniel. "I won't."

Suddenly the desert sand disappeared and became a forest, and Daniel was flying through it. He was floating near the treetops, following the movements of an SG team on the ground below him. The team entered a clearing, moving cautiously, watching each other's backs, and Daniel swooped down to join them. It was SG-1—O'Neill, Carter, Teal'c and Jonas—and they were being ambushed. Daniel stood there watching as the team was completely surrounded by Jaffa. Staff blasts exploded all around, and the clearing was filled with the deafening stutter of P-90 rounds.

"I have to warn him," said Daniel as a bullet whistled past his ear.

Oma Desala floated down from her lofty vantage point and stood before him, glowing a pure, shimmering white, and looked at him with a kindly but stern expression. "You cannot tell him," she said.

"I can't just stand by and watch him get hurt," Daniel argued vehemently, watching as O'Neill's gun ran out of ammo.

"If you tell him, you'll ruin everything," Oma warned and floated up and away from him.

Daniel stood facing Jack, knowing what was going to happen but completely helpless to prevent it. As Jack loaded another magazine into his P-90 a staff blast caught him in the shoulder, spinning him around in a sickening pirouette before dropping him to the ground. Carter rushed over to him and turned him over, and he flopped lifelessly onto his back, pitchy blood and scorched cloth making a mess of his left shoulder. He was clearly unconscious, and yet he opened his eyes and stared directly up at Daniel.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, more confused than angry.

* * *

Sitting watching in the observation lounge, Dr. Fraiser turned to Jacob, rubbing at her grainy eyes. They'd been watching for hours, and seemed to be getting nowhere. "Are all dreams this complicated?" she asked. 

Jacob smiled at her. "Actually, of all the dreams I've watched, Dr. Jackson's are probably the most comprehensible."

"Actually, it's kind of fascinating," said Janet. "Half his dreams aren't even in English. Some of them were in Goa'uld, weren't they?"

Jacob nodded. "Fluent Goa'uld—with an unusual accent—but otherwise flawless."

"Fascinating," she reiterated.

"Fascinating, maybe, but not what we're looking for. I'm starting to think we may have a long search ahead of us."

There was a knock at the door and Colonel O'Neill popped his head in. "Hey, Doc. Sorry to barge in like this, but you're needed in the infirmary. Silas and his crew were working on the FRED, and apparently it collapsed on a couple of them. It's complete chaos—you better get down there."

Fraiser's eyes went wide—the FRED was a heavy piece of equipment, and if it fell on someone they'd be lucky to walk away from it in one piece. She looked at Jacob then through the window at Daniel.

"I promised him I'd be here," she said. "He specifically asked me to be here."

"Go on," said O'Neill. "I'll cover you." When she looked at him uncertainly, he added: "C'mon Doc, this is _Daniel_ we're talking about. We're so close, when he sneezes, _I_ wipe _my_ nose."

Fraiser smiled gratefully at him and hurried from the room. As soon as she was gone, O'Neill sat down in her still-warm chair and looked up at the holographic projection. Then he fished around in his pockets and dug out a bag of trail mix.

"What did I miss?" he asked Jacob.

Jacob raised an eyebrow at him. "You brought snacks?"

"A man's gotta eat," he argued and began munching away at his late-night snack.

"Did you bring enough for the rest of the class?" asked Jacob.

O'Neill grinned and passed him the bag. "So…any bomb sightings?" he asked.

Jacob sighed and shook his head. "Nothing so far. But I gotta tell ya, I'm not surprised Daniel had a hard time falling asleep. If I had as many nightmares as he has, I'd probably never want to sleep again."

"Comes with the territory, I guess," said Jack casually. He tried to fool himself, but in the pit of his stomach he had to admit the comment really bothered him. Sure, the kid had been through a hell of a lot, but Jack had had no idea it was affecting him so badly. He was his CO. He should have known about the nightmares.

Jack sat for a while watching Daniel sleep, instead of the projected images he was supposed to be watching. Daniel was stretched out on his back, his hands tucked under his head, his legs splayed and twisted around the blankets. The pose reminded Jack of a golden retriever he'd had when he was a kid. Her name was Kit, and she was the most affectionate and loyal creature he'd ever known. She would lie like that, too—her belly exposed and vulnerable, letting him pet her—trusting him unconditionally. Jack found it amazing that after all he'd been through, and even now, in the grip of his nightmares, Daniel still managed to remain so trusting and vulnerable.

Jack cleared his throat and marshalled his straying thoughts. He was here to look for a bomb, not to eyeball Daniel's exposed belly. He wrenched his eyes away from his friend and tried to concentrate on the shifting images of the hologram. "What, exactly, are we looking at here?" he asked.

"All his dreams seem to have a common theme—they all involve you and your team."

"Not surprising," Jack replied. "We spend more time together than we spend apart." He sat quietly eating trail mix for a moment until a thought occurred to him. "Hang on—you said he was having nightmares…does that mean his nightmares are about us?"

"Shh…" said Jacob and pointed at the projection, which was shifting again.

Jack gave him a petulant glare, but dutifully returned his attention to the holographic dreams. "Hey! I recognize this place," said Jack. "Those cliffs, that beach…that was PX9-something-or-other. We went there a couple of weeks ago. Beautiful planet—sea caverns filled with ruins—Daniel was in Heaven."

"Shh!"

"Sorry."

* * *

/The tide had come in while they were busy exploring the caverns that contained the ancient relics Daniel was so excited about. Luckily they were well above sea level and didn't have to worry about getting flooded, but their passage out of the caverns now lay under several feet of churning ocean. They were essentially trapped until low tide. 

Still, it could be worse—at least they had a pretty view from the cavern's mouth. Teal'c and Sam were setting up camp, getting a fire started and preparing to make dinner. Daniel was leaning against the cavern's entrance watching in awe as the setting sun filled the alien sky with a truly stunning palette of colours. Out of the corner of his eye he saw O'Neill coming up to stand beside him.

"Have you ever seen anything so beautiful," asked Daniel.

"Can't say I have," Jack answered, and as Daniel turned to look at him, he could have sworn he caught Jack quickly looking away, as if he'd been watching him and not the sunset when he'd answered the question.

Of course Daniel knew that was absurd…just wishful thinking on his part. And yet he couldn't help wondering if just maybe…

"Daniel…?" asked Jack. "What'cha thinking?"

Daniel shook the delusions out of his head when he realised he'd been staring at Jack. "What? Nothing," he answered quickly.

"You should tell him, Daniel Jackson," said Teal'c from his spot near the fire.

"What?" Daniel asked in disbelief. "No!"

"Teal'c's right, Daniel," Carter added as she coaxed the flames of the fire a little higher. "Tell him, or bit by bit, this thing's gonna kill you."

Daniel's tongue darted out to wet his lips. Jack was now watching him curiously.

"Tell me what, Daniel?" asked Jack.

"It's nothing," Daniel replied and glared at Carter, who smiled sweetly back at him.

"If you've got something to say to me, say it," said Jack. "You know how much I hate secrets."

"Of course—why else would you join a top-secret military organisation?" Daniel quipped facetiously.

"Tell me."

"I don't think so."

"Fine," said Jack. "We'll have to do this the hard way, then." Jack stepped in closer and brought his hand up to cup Daniel's cheek. "Does it have anything to do with this, perhaps?" asked Jack, stroking Daniel's cheek with his thumb.

Daniel's breath hitched in his throat and he couldn't help leaning into the touch. He nuzzled his face against the palm of Jack's hand, closing his eyes to fully savour the moment. When he opened them again, Jack was only inches away, his skin tinted warm ochre by the setting sun, his rich brown eyes burning right through him.

"Or maybe it's more about…" Jack said softly, leaning in as he spoke until his lips were on Daniel's, effectively finishing the sentence.

Pressed up against the cavern wall, Daniel let out a strangled whimper before giving in and returning the kiss. It soon became heated, and as Jack kissed scorching trails along his jaw and down his neck, Daniel arched into him with a mewling moan, guiding Jack's advances with trembling hands.

Daniel's eyes cracked open and he noticed Sam and Teal'c observing them in an oddly detached way as they ate their dinner rations. It was enough to distract Daniel from the attentions Jack was paying him, and Jack pulled back, annoyed.

"Don't look at them, look at me," said Jack. "That is, unless you'd rather be over there with them. Go ahead if you want, but I can guarantee you'll have more fun here with me."

Jack's hand took a sudden detour and ended up firmly entrenched between Daniel's legs. The move caught Daniel by surprise and his head flew back hard enough to knock against the stone wall painfully. Daniel hardly noticed, distracted as he was by the unexpected massage Jack was giving him. In no time at all he was achingly erect, his hips rocking against Jacks' hand, desperately trying to increase the friction. Jack obliged, at first, rubbing him harder, getting him close to release…and then he stopped. Without warning, Jack stepped back, leaving Daniel panting and pleading for more.

"Jack…" he begged.

"Tell me," said Jack.

"Jack…no," said Daniel with a near-sob.

"Okay…tell me, please," Jack said reasonably.

"You don't understand. It'll ruin everything."

Jack stepped in again, so close his body heat seeped into Daniel, but not close enough to actually touch him. Daniel wanted more than anything to close the gap between them, to feel Jack's body against his again, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't move. Jack toyed with him, his hands hovering over him, almost but not quite touching. The frustration and the throbbing ache in his groin quickly had Daniel shaking from head to foot.

"Please, Jack!" he cried out.

"Not until you say it," Jack insisted.

Daniel's chest heaved with the effort of resisting him, his blue eyes so dark with need they were almost entirely black. "Please," he begged once more.

"Tell me, Daniel," Jack whispered in his ear, his breath stirring up goose flesh all over Daniel's body.

It was more than Daniel could bear. His throat was so tight with emotion the words nearly didn't come out at all. "I love you, Jack. Oh, God, I love you so much!"

The tender kisses he expected to follow never came. Instead, Jack shoved him forcefully against the wall, knocking the wind out of him. Jack slowly withdrew a few feet and was joined by Teal'c and Carter. Daniel slid down the wall, his knees buckling beneath him as he looked up at Jack in confusion.

"Jack…?"

O'Neill cocked his head at him, his eyes cold and distant. "You're pathetic. Did you really think it would be any different this time?"

Carter and Teal'c took their place on either side of O'Neill, and as Daniel watched, they transformed into Shau'ri and Sarah, both exhibiting the glowing white eyes of the Goa'uld residing within them. To his horror, Jack's eyes glowed white as well, and the three of them advanced on him.

"No," Daniel whimpered and he tried to back further away. The cold stone wall of the cavern blocked his retreat, and there was nowhere left to go, except… Daniel edged closer to the lip of the cavern's mouth. He peered over the edge at the fifty foot drop to the rocky tide below and licked his parched lips. All the while, O'Neill, Shau'ri and Sarah slowly gained on him, taking their time, knowing there was nowhere for him to go.

Daniel turned to watch the trio descend upon him, Jack in the lead, pulling on a ribbon device with a sadistic smirk on his face.

"Jack, if there's any part of you still in there, I'm begging you…" Searing white pain exploded behind Daniel's eyes as Jack activated the ribbon device. His body spasmed, and then curled up in a tight ball on the sandy floor of the cave as he slowly succumbed to the torture device. A spray of foamy spittle erupted from his mouth as he fought to breathe. The pain was so intense it made him yearn for death. But somehow Daniel somehow managed to grab hold of Jack's arm and with the little strength he had left in him he heaved the other man over the lip of the cavern.

Daniel's shoulder was wrenched out of its socket as Jack dangled over the edge of the cavern's opening, tenaciously gripping Daniel's wrist. Weakened and emotionally devastated, Daniel looked down at Jack and said; "I'm sorry."

"No. But you will be," said the Goa'uld in Jack, and with a mighty yank, he pulled Daniel over the edge with him and the two of them plummeted to the roaring sea below.

* * *

O'Neill watched the nightmare unfold with open-mouthed shock. The trail mix sat forgotten in his hands as Daniel's subconscious spilled forth and revealed his friend's deepest secrets and fears. He knew he should have looked away, but he couldn't. He was completely mesmerized, his attention torn between the projected images of the dream and Daniel, who was tossing and struggling on the cot in the other room. 

When Daniel jerked awake with a terrified gasp, Jack was suddenly jerked back to reality with him. He had to get out of there—Daniel couldn't know he'd been there, watching. He looked at Jacob, his mouth still hanging open and blinked at him mutely.

Jacob knew what was going through his mind. "Go on, get out of here. I promise I won't tell him."

O'Neill nodded at him gratefully and bolted from the room, anxious to be anywhere but there.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Dream sequences are set off by / and \.

It took a moment for Daniel to get his bearings. If anything, the nightmare had been more intense than usual, and when he woke up in a strange bed, it only served to fuel his panic. It wasn't until Jacob Carter rushed in that he began to remember where he was and what had happened.

"Take it easy, Daniel—that was one hell of a nightmare," said Jacob, coming up to stand near the bed.

"Where's Doc Fraiser?" asked Daniel, eyes darting quickly around the room.

"I'm here," came her voice from the doorway. Janet hurried over to his bedside, looking distraught. "I'm so sorry, Danny. There was an emergency and I was needed in the infirmary."

A look of relief flashed across Daniel's face and he let out a deep breath. "So then you weren't here—you didn't see that last dream?"

"I'm really sorry, but I had a medical emergency, and Colonel O'Neill offered to take over for me here while I was gone," said Fraiser.

Daniel's head shot up fast at that piece of news, his eyes going wide as saucers as he gaped at Jacob. "Jack?"

Jacob hung his head, silently cursing Dr. Fraiser's stupendously bad timing.

Daniel took Jacob's silence for what it was—an acknowledgement that his fears were justified. Jack had seen everything. Daniel's head couldn't begin to wrap around the possible repercussions this would have. All he knew was that he had to get out of there. He needed to be alone. With a flinch of pain, Daniel detached the memory device from his temple and threw it down on the bed before shoving past Jacob and Fraiser to get out.

"What just happened?" Janet asked, staring out the door in confusion.

Jacob gave her an odd look and shook his head. "I really don't think it's my place to say."

* * *

Jack needed to pace, and he needed a quiet place to do it. It was still early, but he knew that the SGC would still be a buzzing hive of activity. He wandered the halls for a while, trying to think of a place where he could be alone. After running into three airmen and all four members of SG-8, he was starting to think he'd have to go off-world to get any peace and quiet. It was at that moment that General Hammond caught up with him.

"General, you're awake, I see," said O'Neill conversationally. "You're looking very…non-explosive."

General Hammond smiled a crinkly-eyed smile at him. "I've been given a clean bill of health," he stated proudly. "As has Dr. Jackson, from what Jacob tells me. And that means it's your turn to take a nap, Colonel."

Funny, thought Jack, how the thought of someone spying on his dreams hadn't really bothered him much until now. With the memories of Daniel's nightmare still fresh in his mind, he was worried what sorts of things his own subconscious mind might decide to make public. Whoever was watching could be in for a very entertaining show.

"Uh…about that," said Jack. "Can't it wait 'til later? I've got some, uh…stuff…to do." He winced—it sounded lame even to his own ears.

Hammond's cool eyes narrowed at him suspiciously. "Is there anything you should be telling me, Colonel?"

Jack's eyes shot up instantly to meet the general's, thinking the other man had somehow read his mind. "Um…no, I don't think so, sir," he said.

"You've been late for duty three times this last week," Hammond said. "If it had anything to do with sleep disturbances…"

Jack felt himself relax a little. "General, I don't think there's a single member of my team that can claim to sleep like a baby. Restless nights are a part of the job."

"Still, you should have mentioned that you were having problems sleeping at the debriefing," said Hammond, his voice edgy with concern. "Now I've got Major Carter in the VIP room with Shaneeth and Teal'c. I want you to report immediately to the isolation room. Jacob and Dr. Jackson can do the monitoring."

"Um, yeah…that might not be such a good idea," said Jack. "Daniel's been having a tough time with this whole nightmare thing of his—maybe he should sit this one out."

"Colonel, as much as I appreciate your concern for Dr. Jackson's well-being, there's simply no one else available. All non-essential personnel are currently being gated to the Alpha site. So unless you'd prefer me to monitor your dreams myself…"

"No!" said Jack, a little too vehemently. "No sir, that won't be necessary. I'm sure Daniel will be fine."

"Very well, then, Colonel. Off you go," said Hammond, and as Jack turned to leave he added, "Pleasant dreams."

Jack flicked a wave at Hammond as he walked away, keeping his face turned so he wouldn't see the worry in his eyes. He wasn't too thrilled at having to face Daniel. At least, not yet—he still had a lot of serious thinking to do. He needed more time.

* * *

Daniel had scarcely settled down at his desk when there was a knock at his door. A part of him seriously considered telling whomever it was to go away. In truth, right now he wished the whole world would just go away and leave him alone. He hunched lower in his chair, as if that might make him somehow less…there.

"Dr. Jackson?" The voice on the other side of the door wasn't Jack's, and Daniel felt some of the tension drain out of him.

"I'm busy," Daniel called out, hoping that would be enough to compel them to leave. It wasn't.

The door opened a crack and Sergeant Harriman peeked his head around. "Sorry, sir," he said. "General Hammond asked me to bring you down to the isolation room."

Daniel's heart nearly stopped with the certainty that they'd either found the bomb in his scan or that he was about to experience some of those repercussions he'd been worried about. "Um…is there a problem?" he asked cautiously.

"No problem," said Harriman. "But we've got to step up the bomb search now that you've been cleared, and we need you in the observation suite."

Daniel nodded his head grudgingly. "Sam's up next, right?" he asked.

Harriman started off down the hallway as he spoke, clearly in a hurry, forcing Daniel to rush to catch up with him. "Major Carter's already being scanned," he said. "We need you to monitor Colonel O'Neill."

Daniel stopped dead in his tracks and it took Harriman a few more steps to realize he'd lost his charge.

"Dr. Jackson?" said Sgt. Harriman, falling back to where Daniel still stood frozen to the spot.

"What?" asked Daniel.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, Walter, I'm fine," said Daniel absently, and they started back down the hall again. "I…uh…I don't suppose there's anyone else who could take my place? It's just…I have a lot of work to catch up on."

Harriman shook his head. "Sorry, sir, but we've got an evacuation underway."

They'd been walking at a brisk pace, and before Daniel knew it he was standing in front of the observation suite door. Taking a deep breath for courage, Daniel opened the door and stepped inside, only to find he was alone in the little room. The projector was set up but was currently switched off. In two short steps, Daniel walked up to the one-way mirror and looked down into the isolation room where Jacob Carter was busy futzing around with the memory device.

As he watched, the door to the isolation room opened and Colonel O'Neill walked in. Or rather, he snuck in; like he was afraid someone might see him enter the room. Jack quickly scanned the room, giving Jacob a cursory nod of greeting before his eyes finally settled on the one-way mirror. Daniel's mouth went dry and a shiver ran down his spine as Jack's eyes somehow managed to lock onto his, despite the fact that he couldn't possibly see him through the one-way glass.

He couldn't read Jack's expression. Was he confused? Angry? Insulted? ... Disgusted? It was impossible to tell, but Daniel knew it was wishful thinking on his part to hope that Jack might be merely confused. In any case, Daniel highly doubted the colonel was all that happy about what he'd seen in his dream.

Jack was so lost in thought that Jacob's hand on his shoulder made him jump.

"You about ready?" asked Jacob with a sympathetic look on his face that made Jack feel like smacking the guy. He didn't need sympathy.

Jacob brought out the memory device and started to raise it to Jack's temple.

"I can do that," Jack said and the snatched the memory device out of the Tok'ra's hand pre-emptively, giving him a look at him that made it clear that he appreciated the offer but that he didn't want any help. He placed the device on his left temple and felt it burrow under his skin. He was ready for it, and only a tiny bit of his discomfort showed on his face. As Jacob was about to leave, Jack called out to him. "Jacob, do me a favour, would ya? When Daniel gets here, tell him…"

Jacob waited as the pause stretched on. "Jack?" he prompted at last.

"Hell, I don't know. Tell him…tell him I'll see him when I wake up." He may not have been the most eloquent orator on the planet, but that little speech was pretty pathetic even by Jack's standards and he shrugged apologetically. Anyway, what was there to say? It wasn't like Jack had even had time to figure out how he felt about all this. He was upset, sure, but he couldn't say for certain what it was he was upset about. It was just a stupid dream, after all. Jack once dreamt that Hammond and Carter were the two finalists on American Idol. Dreams didn't mean anything. He knew that. Except…

Jack took one last glance at the one-way mirror, wondering if Daniel was there watching him already. He gave his reflection a terse little smile and lay down on the cot.

"Sweet dreams, Jack," said Jacob.

"Yeah—that never gets old," Jack quipped and watched as the older man took his leave.

Jack closed his eyes and turned onto his right side like he did every night when he went to bed. He fluffed up the pillow and nestled his head into it, drawing in a deep, relaxing breath. The pillow smelled like Daniel, he thought—Daniel had lain in this very bed only a short while ago and dreamt about him. Dreamt? More like 'fantasized'. Jack's eyes popped open and he let out a soft groan. As if this wasn't hard enough as it was… He rolled onto his back, which wasn't as comfortable, but at least his face was no longer engulfed in the familiar scent of Daniel Jackson. And wasn't it strange that until now he hadn't even been aware that he knew what Daniel smelled like?

When Jacob entered the observation suite, it was to find a very sullen and silent Dr. Jackson, sitting there waiting like a prisoner about to be sentenced. He took a seat next to the archaeologist, trying to make eye contact and failing miserably. Daniel's eyes were glued on Jack, his expression impenetrable.

"It wasn't Jack's fault, you know," said Jacob soothingly.

"I know," Daniel answered sombrely. And when Jacob was busy preparing the projector, he added almost inaudibly, "It's mine."

* * *

/The pond was as quiet and peaceful as ever—a sanctuary that only a handful of close friends ever got the privilege of visiting. The beauty of it was that there were absolutely zero distractions. Just the cottage, the dock, a fishing pole and the dappled water, glinting in the sunlight.

The word 'tranquil' sprang to mind when he looked out at the calm water. Jack liked the sound of it—it seemed to embody the very essence of what his hideaway was about. "Tranquil," he said aloud, letting the word roll off his tongue.

"Indeed," Teal'c said as he joined Jack on the dock. The formidable warrior was decked out in white shorts and a florid Hawaiian shirt, the blinding outfit being topped off with a fisherman's hat, replete with brightly-coloured lures. Jack watched the stoic Jaffa set up a lounge chair next to him and then pick up his staff weapon before settling down into his seat.

"What're you gonna do, shoot the fish?" asked Jack.

"Yes," Teal'c answered simply. "Your method of catching fish is inefficient."

Jack sighed and cast his line out into the water with a plop, ripple rings marking the place where his lure landed. "I thought we went over this before, T. It's not about catching fish—I don't even _have_ fish in my pond. It's about spending time with friends in a nice, safe, and most of all, _quiet_ place. Tell him, Carter."

Sam had arrived, dragging another lounge chair onto the already overcrowded dock, and doing her best to squeeze in between Teal'c and Jack. "Sorry, sir, I'm with Teal'c on this one. I'd rather have a naquadria bomb to play with any day."

"Are you nuts?" said Jack. "This is perfection here. Or…well…almost. Where's Daniel? He said he'd be here."

Teal'c and Sam exchanged concerned glances.

"Do you not remember, O'Neill?" asked Teal'c, his eyebrow arched so high it made his forehead buckle around his golden brand.

"Remember what?" asked Jack.

Sam gently laid her hand on Jack's forearm. "Daniel's dead, Jack. He's been gone almost a year now."

Jack looked at her as if to say 'and I thought _I_ was the dense one'. "What're you talking about? Danny's not dead. Look—see? Here he comes now." Daniel had sauntered around the side of the cottage and had come to a stop next to a large orange and white cooler that sat on the pristine lawn. He was wearing an off-white sweater and khaki pants despite the heat, and his blue eyes looked back at him without the aid of his glasses. "Daniel!" Jack yelled out. "Get your ascended ass over here, and bring me a beer while you're at it."

Daniel crossed his arms over his chest and frowned at Jack. "You know I can't do that, Jack. I'm not allowed to interfere."

"To whom are you talking, O'Neill?" asked Teal'c.

"I'm talking to Daniel," Jack answered. "Can't you see him? He's right over there." He pointed at his friend, who waved back at him from the lawn. Sam and Teal'c looked to where he was pointing, but they obviously saw nothing there. "Never mind. I guess I'll have to get my own damn beer."

Jack set his fishing rod down and squeezed past Sam, quickly covering the distance between him and Daniel. "What's your problem?" he asked the younger man.

"What do you mean?" asked Daniel, his lips doing that slightly pouty thing that drove Jack up the wall.

"Why wouldn't you bring me a beer?"

"I told you, I'm not allowed…"

"…to interfere," Jack concluded for him. "Yadda, yadda, heard it all before."

"I don't make the rules, Jack," said Daniel wearily.

"It's a _beer_ for cryin' out loud! It's not as if I'm asking you to save me from being tortured to death over and over, or anything."

The frown returned to Daniel's face and deepened until he looked downright pained. "You know I would have…"

"Don't give me that non-interference crap. You were there. You could have helped me, but you chose not to. Hell, you wouldn't even give me a reassuring pat on the shoulder! Do you have any idea what it was like having you there and not even being able to touch you?" Jack lifted his hand to Daniel's cheek as if he wanted to caress it, but it passed through him without making contact.

"You're not allowed to touch me," said Daniel with a deep sadness in his blue eyes.

"Tell me about it," Jack mumbled.

The sound of repeated staff-weapon blasts cut short their conversation. Teal'c had apparently decided to take fishing into his own hands, and the entire pond was alight with the orange glow of the energy weapon.

"Colonel O'Neill, I thought you said there were no fish in your pond," Teal'c called out over his shoulder.

"There aren't," said Jack, turning away from Daniel to head back to the dock.

"Then, are these not fish?" asked Teal'c, making a broad sweeping gesture with his staff weapon across the pond. Several bloated white shapes had floated to the surface. Far too large to be fish, Jack had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that he knew what they were. When he reached the dock and got close enough to see what the Jaffa's weapon had brought to the surface, his greatest fears were realized.

Ghostly white and unmistakably dead, the body of Daniel Jackson drifted just beneath the surface of the water, so close to shore that Jack could almost reach out and touch him. His friend's dead blue eyes had milked over, and there was something lodged in his mouth. Something that didn't belong there. Something that looked like a carved stone, but couldn't be, because stones didn't glow like that. In the pond, hundreds of dead Daniels bobbed to the surface, each with cloudy white eyes and glowing stone mouths.

"What is that?" Jack asked Carter.

Sam shrugged and cast her fishing line out into the water. It snagged one of the floating bodies and she began to reel it in, grinning at Jack as she did. "I caught one, sir!" she announced proudly.

The body at the end of her line made a sickening thunking sound as it struck the wooden dock and Teal'c helped Jack haul it over the side of the dock with a grunt of effort. Flipping Daniel's naked body over onto its back, Jack reeled backwards, as much from the sweet reek of rotting flesh as from the horrific sight that met his eyes. Parts of Daniel's body had started to split open and peel away, and beneath his skin…

Jack backed further away, half-falling over Carter as she knelt down next to the corpse to get a closer look. Jack gagged slightly as she poked at the body, tugging the water-bloated flesh apart to reveal what looked like stone beneath. The stone was covered in Goa'uld symbols, glowing red with some sort of internal energy.

Ascended Daniel wandered up to Jack, his hands thrust deep into his pants' pockets and looked down at his own dead body with an almost child-like curiosity. "It's Goa'uld," he said.

"Well…duh," said Jack. "What does it say, mister I-know-the-secrets-of-the-universe?"

Daniel gave him his patented look of patient indulgence and knelt down on the dock next to Carter.

"Hey, Daniel!" said Carter warmly, shifting to make room for him.

"Hi, Sam," Daniel said, smiling brightly back at her.

"Are you two about done with the pleasantries?" Jack said, rolling his hands in the air at them to get on with it.

"Right," said Daniel. "Well…these symbols here, along the outer ring on my chest are numbers in a descending sequence. See?" he said, as the glowing symbols flashed in a slow and steady chase around the perimeter of the corpse's torso. "It's counting down."

"It's a bomb?" asked Jack and Sam simultaneously. Daniel nodded at them, pleased that they'd caught on so quickly.

"How long before it goes off?" asked Jack.

"Oh, don't worry," said Daniel as he stood and brushed the dirt off his knees. "You've still got a good three hours." He smiled serenely at Jack. "Plenty of time."\

* * *

Up in the observation suite, Daniel and Jacob were suspended in a bubble of shock and disbelief.

"My God," Daniel muttered at last.

"Can't be," Jacob chimed in. "That can't be right. We should have three _days_, not hours! The Daniel in the dream must have read the symbols wrong."

Daniel swallowed hard and licked his lips nervously. "No. He…_I_ was right—according to the symbols in the dream, the countdown gives us just under three hours to diffuse the bomb."


	4. Chapter 4

* * *

Jack was the last one to arrive at the Briefing Room, having been rudely shaken awake by Jacob after what seemed like only a few minute's sleep. General Hammond had called an emergency meeting the second Daniel had informed him of their new, fast-approaching deadline. And now Carter, Teal'c, Hammond and the two Tok'ra all stopped what they were doing and watched Jack enter the room and take his seat at the table. Jack couldn't help but notice that the only one who didn't look up was Daniel. Instead, the younger man studiously avoided looking in his direction. Jack sighed—if he got through this in one piece, he knew they'd have to have a little talk. But right now he had more urgent matters on his mind. Quite literally.

"As you all know by now," said General Hammond, "we are rapidly running out of time on this one. We need options, people."

"Sir," said Carter, "couldn't we just send a bomb through the Stargate to destroy the power source?"

"We've already tried that," said Shaneeth with typical Tok'ra smugness. "It was disabled before it had a chance to destroy the target."

"Again—high tech," said Carter. "What if we kept it simple, like a grenade or a basic missile? With no electronic components, there would be nothing for the weapon to disable."

"We've thought of that, too," said Shaneeth, making Carter's jaw clench in annoyance. "The power source is too close to the Stargate—the detonation would occur almost instantly. There wouldn't be enough time for you to close your iris."

"Well that shouldn't matter, should it?" asked Jack. "I mean, I'm no astrophysicist or anything, but I thought things could only go one way through a wormhole. That is what you told us, isn't it Carter?"

Sam smiled at him like a grade school teacher who'd finally got through to an inattentive student. "You're right, Colonel. Matter can only travel one way through a wormhole; but other things, like radio waves and certain types of energy can travel both directions."

Shaneeth, seemingly unwilling to be one-upped by a human, quickly added her two cents: "The power source is most likely shielded. It would take a very powerful explosion to take it out. The primitive weapons at your disposal may not have the capability of travelling back along the open wormhole, but we must assume the device is naqahdah based."

"And if our detonation of the device ignites the naqahdah inside it, the shock wave travelling back through the wormhole would destroy this whole compound." Sam's sapphire eye's flashed at Shaneeth as if to say 'two can play at that game'.

There was a moment's stillness as everyone around the table chewed on that last piece of information. It was Daniel who finally broke the silence. "Do we have any idea what killed the Tok'ra who volunteered to 'gate through to the planet?" he asked. "Because if he was killed by radiation or toxins in the air, someone in a hazmat suit might be able to make it through and destroy the power source manually."

"No such luck, I'm afraid, Daniel," said Carter. "The boys in the computer lab were able to clean up the video we received from the MALP. From the looks of it, he was shot by a staff blast as soon as he stepped out of the 'gate. Which means there's either someone guarding the power source, or it's been equipped with a motion-triggered defence system of some kind."

Jack shifted forward in his chair and laced his hands across the tabletop. "I hate to be the one to point this out, but aren't you guys overlooking the most obvious solution?" When no one answered, he gamely continued: "Why not just send _me_ through the Stargate? If this thing in my head's gonna blow anyway, I might as well take the weapon out with me."

"Of course that's the obvious solution," said Shaneeth condescendingly. "That's exactly why it wouldn't work—Anubis would expect you to try it, and will have undoubtedly rigged the device to detonate should you attempt to pass through the Stargate."

"You're assuming a lot, there," said Jack, who was visibly bristling at her tone of voice.

Shaneeth arched her eyebrow at him. "I am. For instance, I assume that you haven't been off-world in the last week."

"SG-1's been on stand down since their last mission over a week ago," General Hammond confirmed, eliciting a smug look from Shaneeth.

"But still," said Jack, "you're assuming Anubis has rigged the bomb…"

"Are you really willing to take the risk?" asked Shaneeth. "Because if I'm right—and I am—then attempting to leave through the Stargate would result in the destruction of this complex and half your planet as well."

General Hammond consulted his wristwatch and abruptly got to his feet, his officers following suit. "I feel like we're spinning our wheels, here, folks. Now, there's two hours and twenty-five minutes left until detonation. I want a solution, and I don't think sitting here in this room cutting down everyone's ideas is going to make that happen. I'm giving you all twenty-five minutes to go off and brainstorm, and then we'll meet back here and try this again. If we still have no answer to this problem then I'll have no choice but to order Colonel O'Neill to take one of the F-302s and head as far away from Earth as possible in the time left." No one at the table looked pleased, but the general's steely gaze brooked no argument. "Dismissed."

General Hammond led a trail of grim-faced and determined people out of the room. Only Daniel remained seated at the long table, watching everyone file out the door. Watching Jack gather his notes, hesitate briefly, cast a furtive glance his way, and then follow the others out without a word. If he'd had any doubts before, they were gone now—he'd lost Jack. One stupid nightmare and he'd lost his closest friend.

But he'd be damned if he'd sit back and watch him die.

An idea had been brewing in the back of Daniel's mind during the briefing. It was an insane idea, and it might not even work, so he'd decided to keep it to himself. Besides, if Hammond got wind of what he was planning, he'd probably go ballistic and have him locked up. He knew he must be crazy to even consider it, but he honestly couldn't think of a better way out of this mess.

Twenty-five minutes. It wasn't a lot of time, and he'd have to work alone. First things first, though—he had a letter to write.

* * *

As Jack left the Briefing Room he couldn't help stealing one last glance at Daniel, hoping to finally make eye contact with the other man. The problem was, when he got what he'd hoped for he didn't know what to do about it. Daniel had pulled out all the stops, and his expression was as pathetic and dejected as that of a lost puppy in a rainstorm.

God, he needed to talk to him.

But now just wasn't a good time. In less than half an hour he'd be hurtling halfway across the solar system, and in less than three hours he would leave this existence with a spectacularly big light show, scattering his atoms all over the galaxy. He wasn't kidding himself that they'd miraculously pull a solution out of their collective scientific asses this time. The Tok'ra had been working on the problem for days already and even _they_ hadn't come up with anything useful. On the bright side, at least this death would be quick and painless…unlike several others he'd had to endure.

Less than half an hour.

Enough time to put some of his affairs in order, he knew, but he just couldn't stomach the idea of spending his last moments on Earth making phone calls. Besides, there was really no one out there in the real world he wanted to talk to. His only connection out there was Sara, and he didn't think it was fair to dump this in her lap now. In any case, his life…his family…over the last seven years had been SG-1. They were the only one's he wanted to be with right now.

Jack paused as he reached the Control Room. Down below in the Gate Room, the last of the base's personnel were preparing to 'gate through to the Alpha Site. Sgt. Harriman, sitting at the controls, acknowledged his presence with a sad, knowing smile and then returned to his keyboard to enter the first chevron of the Alpha Site address.

Twenty-five minutes left, and his main regret was that everyone was too busy trying to save the planet to give him a proper send-off. He felt a lit like a fifth wheel, and decided he might as well make himself useful with what little time he had left. With jaw-clenching determination, he headed out for the hangar to help prep the F-302 for departure.

Daniel, perched at the top of the spiral staircase, waited until Jack left before quietly descending into the Control Room himself. Sergeant Harriman was too busy dialling the Stargate to notice him slip out of the room behind him. The hallways were deserted, which suited him fine. The fewer people who saw what he was up to, the fewer lies he'd have to tell. The first stop was his lab to write that letter, and then it was off to the armoury.

In a way he was glad he had so little time—if he had more time to think about what he was doing he might change his mind.

* * *

It turned out Jack's help wasn't needed in the hangar. The F-302 had already been fuelled up and prepped for launch. With a sigh, he checked his watch. Eighteen minutes and counting. Jack chewed the inside of his cheek as he debated whether or not he should use the time remaining to track down Daniel. He didn't want to leave things the way they were between them. He couldn't fly off to meet his fate knowing that Daniel thought he was mad at him. It wouldn't be right—Daniel deserved the truth—he wasn't angry, he was just…shaken.

His mind made up, Jack made his way to the 18th floor and Daniel's lab. Once there, he steadied himself with a couple of deep breaths and knocked on the door. There was no answer, and no sounds coming from inside. Jack's gut told him something was wrong and he pushed the door open. Daniel wasn't there, but there was an envelope taped to the lamp on his desk, and as Jack got closer, he saw his name written on it in Daniel's familiar scrawl. He plucked the envelope off the lamp and tore it open, but before he had a chance to read the note inside, the claxon alarms went off.

"Unauthorised 'gate activation," the automated voice announced over the PA system. "All hands to the Embarkation Room."

That feeling in Jack's gut jumped up several degrees in intensity and he bolted from the lab. He really hoped his gut was wrong this time.

* * *

Daniel's heart thumped painfully against his ribs, the rush of blood in his veins nearly deafening him as he re-entered the Control Room. Everything had gone smoothly until that point. He should have known it couldn't be this easy—Sergeant Harriman should have left by now. There was no logical reason for him to be in the Control Room now that the last of the personnel had been evacuated. Yet there he was, staring at him wide-eyed and about to raise the alarm.

As much as it pained him to do it, Daniel had no choice. "I'm so sorry, Walter," he said, and he raised his zat gun and fired a quick blast at the unsuspecting officer. Harriman writhed in pain as blue lightning tore through him, until blessed unconsciousness finally claimed him and he slumped to the floor in a heap.

His lips pressed in a hard, determined line, Daniel dragged Walter's limp body away from the controls and took over his seat at the computer. He wasn't nearly as adept at computers as Sam was, but he'd been at this long enough to know his way around the Control Room. He quickly entered the 'gate address into the computer and hit 'enter'. As he expected, the claxon sounded even as the Stargate sprang to life below him. In his head he could hear Harriman call out the familiar words: 'Chevron one, encoded'. He spared the unconscious man a brief look of regret for the pain he'd caused him, and then he shot the keyboard with the zat, and raced down the stairs and into the Gate Room.

He knew he would have very little time, now that the alarm had sounded; but it was more time than he would normally have had, thanks to the fact that only a handful of SGC personnel were left on the premises. From inside the Gate Room, he manually sealed the blast doors and disengaged the iris. The Stargate rumbled ominously…four more chevrons…three more…

Daniel made one last check to make sure he had everything he needed for his one-way trip.

* * *

Jack made it down to the Control Room just as Carter did, and they found General Hammond already stationed at the computer, staring down at the fried keyboard in front of him. Teal'c arrived just as the last chevron locked into place and the event horizon burst outward in a flash of blue-white light.

"What's going on, sir?" Carter asked Hammond.

"Hell if I know," he answered her. In the Gate Room below, Dr. Daniel Jackson slowly marched up the ramp towards the stone ring, a large white flag in one hand. Hammond flicked on the intercom. "Doctor Jackson, what the hell do you think you're doing?" he demanded. "Step away from the Stargate. That's an order!"

Daniel paused a second, but then kept on going without even acknowledging the command.

Jack crowded up to the general, taking over the intercom. "Daniel! Get your ass back here, right now! We can talk things over—there's no need for this."

At the sound of Jack's voice, Daniel finally stopped, only a couple of feet from the event horizon. He turned around, needing to see his friend one last time.

Jack's breath caught in his throat, and he heard gasps of disbelief issuing from the others in the room. Daniel's flak vest was completely bricked up with C4, the wire leads sprouting out of him like a porcupine's quills, ending in a dead-man's trigger which Daniel held firmly in his left hand. Daniel's face was ashen, his eyes wide and dark with fear, but there was no mistaking the look of stubborn resolution on his face.

Daniel looked up at the astounded faces of his friends and licked his dry lips. "This is the only way," he said, his voice sounding eerily calm. "I can do this—I have to do this. I'm sorry." He gave them a weak shrug and turned back to the Stargate. With the white flag held high in front of him he approached the event horizon, going so slowly that he was barely moving at all by the time he was sucked into the wormhole.

"No, dammit!" yelled Jack into the intercom. But it was too late. Daniel was gone.


	5. Chapter 5

Four pairs of eyes were glued to the Stargate, watching helplessly as ripples fanned out across the event horizon where Daniel Jackson had just gone through. Ten painful seconds passed in utter silence and then the wormhole disengaged with a whoosh and the Gate Room went dark.

"What was he thinking? He's gonna get himself killed!" Carter exclaimed.

"I think he knew that, Carter," said Jack quietly, running his fingers along the edge of the envelope he still clutched in his hands.

"Can you get this thing up and running again, Major?" asked General Hammond.

Carter looked at the charred keyboard and frowned. "I won't know until I take a closer look, but if it's just the keyboard that needs replacing it shouldn't take that long."

A deep-throated groan sounded from the shadows behind them and they spun around in unison, Teal'c poised, ready to attack if need be. They'd been so focused on the Gate Room that they'd failed to notice the still form of Sgt. Harriman leaning up against the far wall, a zat gun lying at his feet. They quickly gathered around him, helping him to sit up.

"Sergeant! Are you alright?" asked Hammond.

Harriman's eyes grew wide as his mind cleared from the effects of the zat blast. "Sir! Dr. Jackson…"

"We know, Walter," Jack said in a kindly voice, even though he wanted to scream and shout and maybe even hit something really hard. "What happened?"

Harriman rubbed the back of his head, scoping out the borders of the bump he'd received when he hit the floor earlier. "He came in here looking like some kind of mad suicide bomber, said he was sorry, then zatted me."

"Typical," Jack muttered to himself, absently spinning the envelope around between his fingers.

"Uh…sir, what's that?" asked Carter.

"Huh? Oh this? It's nothing, Major," Jack answered, and then quickly changed the subject. "General, request permission to organise a rescue mission?"

"Permission denied," said Hammond, lifting a hand to block the vociferous argument Jack was undoubtedly about to lob at him. "What Dr. Jackson did was reckless—hell, it was downright suicidal if you want my honest opinion—and I refuse to put anyone else's life at risk."

"With all due respect, sir," said Jack tersely, "this is _Daniel_ we're talking about. We can't just give up on him."

General Hammond's expression softened. He knew how much Daniel Jackson meant to everyone in the room—himself included. In fact, there wasn't a soul in the SGC who wouldn't gladly volunteer to go after him, no matter what the risk. But it was his job to face the ugly truths and make the impossible decisions.

"Son," he said softly. "I know how much you want to bring him back, but I think we all know it's too late for that—Dr. Jackson was gone the second he stepped through that wormhole. As much as it grieves me to say this, we have to accept that he made a choice, however foolhardy, and he knew he wouldn't be coming back."

"I don't accept that," said Jack, his dark eyes flashing dangerously.

"You don't have a choice," Hammond countered, matching Jack glare for glare. "We're out of time, Colonel, so I suggest we get upstairs and see it anyone's come up with a way out of this mess. I don't want to lose any more good men today."

* * *

The screeching, chaotic transition through the wormhole was always a little disconcerting, but rematerializing on the other side fully expecting to get blown away made for a whole new level of discomfort. As Daniel slowly stepped through the 'gate, the first thing he was aware of was the sharp whine of an energy blast sizzling dangerously close to his head. It took everything in his power to fight his instinct to duck and run, and to remain perfectly still.

Another blast—again, disquietingly close to his head—zipped past him, but left him unharmed. As he'd hoped, the large white flag he was holding above his head was fluttering in the wind, drawing fire from the power source's motion-sensitive defence system. It gave him a chance to assess his surroundings.

The air was humid and warm, the wind gusting in the aftermath of a rainstorm, and the ground at his feet was soft and marshy. A tropical climate, then, he decided—and from the looks of the heavy clouds above, he'd arrived during the rainy season. He wasn't about to complain, though—the strong wind was all that was keeping him alive at the moment.

The dense foliage had been cleared around the Stargate, leaving a bald spot the size of a baseball field in the middle of the rainforest. He scanned the tree-line, but he found no signs of life, no indications of any patrols or guards in the vicinity.

The MALP and the Tok'ra's scouting device were nearby and both were shot full of holes, the remnants too insubstantial to provide cover. The body of the Tok'ra volunteer lay at his feet, his sightless eyes staring up at the sky, and the large, gaping wound in his chest teeming with larval insects. Daniel quickly looked away, thinking how close he was to sharing this man's fate.

The power source was several feet away—it would only take a handful of steps to reach it—but with its energy weapon aimed in his direction, any sudden move would get him thoroughly blasted, just like the Tok'ra. If he were to move slowly enough, however…

Daniel decided he'd have to test his theory eventually, and took a tentative and diminutive step forward. To his great relief, he wasn't instantly blown away. As he'd predicted, the fluttering flag made for a better target than he did, and the weapon continued to shoot at the large flapping cloth.

Careful to keep his movements to a bare minimum, Daniel took advantage of the soft dirt and planted the long flag pole into the ground. His plan was to sneak around the side of the power source towards the back of it, while the flag kept the motion sensors busy. However, a sidelong glance at the flag told him it wouldn't hold out much longer against the persistent barrage of weapon's blasts. He was left with a tough choice—pick up the pace now and risk drawing fire from the defence mechanism, or continue to take it slow and risk being caught in the open when the flag inevitably gave up the ghost and could no longer provide cover.

Steeling himself for the very real possibility that he might have just made the last bad decision of his life, Daniel took a deep breath and took a large step forward. The weapon paused momentarily in its onslaught against the flag, but by the time it swivelled towards him, Daniel had already frozen in place, denying the weapon of a moving target, and it went back to destroying the flag. He repeated the nerve-racking process three more times, building up enough of a nervous sweat to make his hand slick on the dead-man's trigger. He gripped it tighter, mortified at the thought of coming this far only to be taken down by his own clumsiness.

One last step brought him around to the far side of the power source and out of reach of the defence weapon's swivel range. Daniel crouched down and crawled the last couple of feet to the power source, not taking any chances. Behind him, the tattered remains of his flag rained to the ground like a pathetic ticker-tape parade and the whine of the weapon's fire came to a stop. Daniel sagged in relief, unable to believe his good luck.

Six inches shy of the power source, Daniel encountered a force shield. He'd been expecting it, and he only hoped it was the kind of shield that was penetrable at low velocities. He tested the barrier, his fingers skating across the golden, shimmering field. It yielded to his touch, allowing his hand to pass through. Evidently Anubis was confident no one would make it close enough to the power source to be a threat. Daniel's lips curled up in a tight smile—semi-ascended or not, Anubis was still a Goa'uld and prone to the same inflated ego that had marked the downfall of several lesser false gods.

Taking a moment to steady his nerves, Daniel fished through his pant's pockets and pulled out a pair of slim wire cutters. It was time to put the second part of his plan in motion—but, seeing as he hadn't expected to survive the first part of the plan, he hadn't put a whole lot of thought into the second part. He'd learned enough about bombs in the last several years to know how to deploy them, but this was the first time he'd ever had to build one, and he was praying he'd done it right. Because if he hadn't, and he sliced into the wrong wire…

What the hell, he thought; if he blew himself to Kingdom Come, at least he'd die knowing he'd taken the power source with him.

Holding his breath, Daniel carefully separated the red wire from the black wire on the trigger and made a decisive snip through the red one. He squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the earth shattering kaboom, and when nothing happened he chanced a peek to confirm that he was still in one piece and not a bunch of little ones. His breath escaped in a stuttering wheeze and he wiped the sweat off his brow with the sleeve of his jacket.

One more snip and the trigger was safely disconnected from his homemade bomb. Daniel quickly shrugged off the C4-laden vest, glad to be free of it. He then dug through the pockets of his BDU's for the timing device he'd brought along with him. All he had to do now was attach the lead wires to the timer, set the clock for a five minute countdown, and make a run for it. So long as the power source wasn't fuelled by naquadria, he figured five minutes would give him enough time to make it clear of the blast radius.

As Daniel finished hooking up the timer, the thought occurred to him that this was all just a little bit too easy. Why wasn't the power source more heavily protected? He supposed that since the Tok'ra operative in Anubis' ranks had managed to leak the Intel on the bomb without blowing his cover, Anubis had no reason to believe his device was in any immediate danger of being discovered. So it made sense that Anubis wouldn't waste his resources protecting something he believed to be safe.

Still…Daniel couldn't fight the nagging feeling that his luck was about to run out. Wiping the stinging sweat from his eyes, he carefully placed the makeshift bomb inside the power source's protective shielding and set the timer for five minutes. The red digital readout blinked twice and then started counting down. 4:59…4:58…4:57…

Daniel scrambled away from the power source in a half-crouch, half expecting the defence weapon to swivel past its range and shoot him down any second. But his luck continued to hold, and the blast weapon remained aimed at the Stargate. With a renewed sense of hope, Daniel sprinted towards the tree-line at top speed. His lungs burned as they struggled to take in as much of the muggy air as they could to keep him going. When he hit the tree-line he kept running, the thick foliage scarcely slowing him as rubbery leaves slapped at him and razor-sharp fronds slashed at his clothes, hands and face.

His legs were nearly numb from pounding repeatedly against the marshy ground and a painful stitch in his side was threatening to overwhelm him, but he ignored it and ran for all he was worth. He felt like he'd been running full speed for hours, not minutes. Surely the timer must be close, he thought…

Suddenly the foliage that had been assailing him disappeared, and before his mind could fully grasp what that meant, he found himself plummeting down the steep face of a ravine.

The cliff face was mostly peat and soft earth, but it was freckled throughout with scree made up of hard boulders, and it seemed to Daniel like he was bouncing off every one of them on the way down. One particularly hard jounce against a boulder had Daniel shouting out in pain—from the sickening snapping sound and the way his right arm wouldn't move the way it was supposed to, he knew he'd received a bad break. Desperate to slow his descent before he could sustain further injury, he dug into the dirt with his remaining limbs. The slope was becoming gentler as he neared the bottom of the ravine, and he was starting to slow down, when the explosion hit…

* * *

This wasn't how Jack wanted to go—alone in space, facing a pointless death. He kept thinking he should be doing something—fighting it somehow. But the best minds of the SGC and the Tok'ra had drawn a complete blank, and this was the only thing they could come up with to save Earth. Part of him envied Daniel—at least he'd gone out fighting.

Jack swallowed past a heavy lump in his throat. He'd been doing his best not to think about Daniel; it only opened up a world of confusion and guilt. But now, out in the middle of nowhere and all alone, he found it impossible not to think about him. A vivid image popped into his head. It was from Daniel's nightmare, but to his surprise, it wasn't the steamy embrace that sprang to mind, but the devastated look on Daniel's face when he realized his declaration of love had turned Jack into a Goa'uld.

The poor guy had never had a relationship that hadn't ended in tragedy, so far as Jack knew. Shau'ri, Sarah, Ke'ra…it seemed like every woman he fell in love with had turned evil on him. So maybe it made sense that Daniel might turn his attentions towards him—after all, what could be safer than a guaranteed unrequited love? You can't lose what you never really had, right? …Except, Daniel hadn't even been allowed that much—his mind had twisted it to fit the pattern, and the Goa'uld Jack of his nightmares had been born.

Jack shook his head, clearing those thoughts away. He knew he was reading too much into it—it was just a dream, he kept reminding himself.

He checked his watch and got a jolt of reality—less than two minutes left until detonation. Time just flies when you're about to die, he thought grimly.

The envelope Daniel had left for him was tucked into his jacket pocket, still unopened. He'd put off opening it until the last minute—literally—and now he couldn't bring himself to open it at all. He didn't want to spend his last remaining moments reading his best friend's suicide note. He wanted happy thoughts to fill those last few seconds.

Closing his eyes, Jack tried to focus on his happiest memory—the last time he and Charlie had played catch together—but what surfaced instead was the memory of seeing Daniel alive and well after he'd thought he'd died aboard Apophis' ship. And the way he'd hugged the stuffing out of him out of sheer relief.

"Daniel," said Jack aloud, "if you're ascended again and you're trying to send me a message, could you try to be a little less cryptic?" Jack waited, but there was no answer.

He waited.

Then he realized he'd waited well past the time the bomb was supposed to go off. Jack cracked an eye open and checked his watch. Yep—he should have been space dust over three minutes ago.

Jack let out a deep sigh and he smiled. Daniel had come through after all. And then his smile died when he realized what that meant.

"Oh, Daniel," he said softly to the vast emptiness of space.

* * *

Drip…drip, drip…drip…drip, drip, drip…drip…

Water torture. It had to be water torture. Daniel felt himself being dragged back to consciousness by the persistently nagging fall of water droplets on his face. His eyes blinked open, taking in a slightly blurry world that was wet and green and muddy. It took him a few seconds to remember what had happened, and he wasn't at all surprised to discover that he'd lost yet another pair of glasses when he took his tumble down the ravine. But somehow he guessed that losing his glasses was the least of his worries.

Daniel made the mistake of trying to sit up, and a wave of pain swept over him that was so intense it made him want to throw up. The source of the pain immediately became apparent when he looked down at his body. Somehow the impact from the explosion had thrown him into a patch of bamboo with enough force to impale him on two of the long, thin shoots. His left thigh was speared through, as was his right shoulder, just beneath his clavicle, effectively pinning him to the ground like a great big frog waiting for dissection.

He couldn't see the wound on his thigh, but from what he could make out of his shoulder wound, the thin shoots had gone clean through, and the bleeding wasn't as bad as it could have been. He gently tested the rest of his body. His right arm was a constant source of pain, and he could tell by the way it lay at such an awkward angle that it was broken in at least two places. His hands and face stung from the numerous cuts obtained from his top-speed foray through the jungle, but they were shallow and nothing to worry about. He was bruised pretty much everywhere, from the feel of it, and the red-hot poker of pain that sliced into his chest every time he took a breath told him that he'd cracked or broken a couple of ribs. Add to that the throbbing in his head that beat in time with his pulse as if his brain was trying to beat its way out of the constricting prison of his skull, and that pretty much made his entire body that was one big injury. His pinkie toe on his right foot felt okay, he guessed, but that was a fairy small concession.

All in all, he'd had better days.

Glancing around, Daniel saw that the explosion had started an avalanche along the cliff face, leaving behind a fresh scar of rich brown earth and a mound of boulders and debris at the base. He was lucky he had been thrown clear of the falling boulders, some of which were as big as cars and would have pulverised him. His little patch of bamboo…or whatever it was…had been mostly flattened by the resulting mud slide, leaving only a few shoots standing. Again, he was lucky—if they hadn't been flattened, he'd be a human pincushion now. Or, if he'd been thrown a half a dozen feet to the left, he'd have been impaled on the much larger branches of the trees that stood nearby.

Yeah…he was lucky alright, he thought bitterly. By some miracle he'd survived against all odds with injuries that were painful but not life threatening. And that meant he could look forward to a slow death by starvation.

Daniel suddenly found himself wishing he hadn't written that letter to Jack, telling him to forget about him and move on.


	6. Chapter 6

_Dear Jack,_

_I know you probably think this is a suicide note, but it's not. Okay, maybe it is, a little, because I know I won't be coming back; but I don't want you—any of you—to think I did this because I wanted to kill myself. I don't. And this has absolutely nothing to do with you or with the nightmares, so you can get that thought out of your head right now, Jack._

_I'm doing this because I believe it's the only way, and I also know that General Hammond would never order anyone to do it. If my plan works, both the power source and the Stargate will be destroyed, and I will have no way to get back home._

_I know you, Jack, and I know you're already planning a rescue mission, but I want you to promise me you won't. Even if I somehow manage to survive the explosion, it would take months for anyone to reach me, and the chances of me still being alive are remote at best. I don't want you to waste valuable manpower and resources in a pointless mission to bring me home. You have more important things to worry about right now. You need to focus on a way to stop Anubis from trying this again._

_I don't regret my decision. I know it's the only way to save you and countless others. My only regret is that I never got a chance to say a proper good-bye. I hope you will someday understand and forgive me,_

_Daniel._

Jack sat in the Briefing Room, staring at the letter in his hands. He'd already read it numerous times to himself and had just finished reading an expurgated version to General Hammond and the rest of SG-1. He'd kept the sentence about the nightmares to himself, figuring that was something Daniel meant for his eyes only. He waited in silence as the others absorbed the content of Daniel's last communication.

"He was right," said Hammond softly. "I would never have ordered anyone to do what he did."

"I still can't believe he did that," said Carter, string blankly ahead. "I can't believe he sacrificed himself again."

"He's not dead," said Jack with conviction. "If there's one thing I've learned about Daniel over the years it's that he's got more lives than a cat. Trust me—he's alive out there, and I'm going to bring him home."

Teal'c lifted a brow at Jack's lack of logic. "How is it that you can be so certain Daniel Jackson is alive?" he asked.

Jack frowned at the Jaffa in return. "Daniel's a smart guy. He said he had a plan, and I guarantee you that plan involved not getting killed," he said, his eyes blazing with determination. "Daniel's alive. I can feel it."

Sam nodded her head in agreement. It wasn't rational, but she felt the same way. She thought this must be what it was like to lose a limb; even when you know it's gone it feels like it's still there.

"Colonel, you do realise the very high probability that Dr. Jackson is dead?" asked Hammond.

"I'm well aware of the odds, sir," Jack answered. "But Daniel has been in worse situations and he always seems to pull through somehow. Dead or alive, I won't leave him out there."

General Hammond nodded, expecting no less from his second in command. "Very well, Colonel, I'm giving you a go to bring him back, but you'll have to go alone. I'll need Major Carter here to help devise a method of detecting the phase-shift bombs in case Anubis attacks again, and Bra'tac has requested Teal'c's help with the Jaffa resistance—a request I've already granted. If you do this, it'll have to be a solo mission. Understood?"

"Yes, sir. Thank-you, sir," said Jack with an even mix of relief and disappointment. It would have made him much happier if he could have his team with him, but he understood that Hammond couldn't very well send all of them off on a hopeless mission for God only knew how long, when there was an imminent threat against Earth and its allies.

"Dismissed, everyone," said Hammond.

They all pushed away from the table and went their separate ways, but Jack caught up with Carter a few minutes later as she was making her way to her lab.

"Carter, you got a minute?" asked Jack.

"Of course, sir," she answered and fell into step beside him.

"Is there any possibility at all that the 'gate on Daniel's planet…"

"P9T 337," Carter supplied automatically.

"Yeah, that one…is there any chance we can get it to work?"

Carter shook her head, her clear blue eyes solemn as she answered him. "I'm sorry, sir. Since we got the computer back on line a few hours ago we've attempted to dial the planet twelve times, each time with the same result. The last chevron won't lock—the 'gate on the other side was either destroyed in the explosion or buried in debris."

"So I'll need to get there by ship, and the Tok'ra ships are too slow to be of any use. I guess that means…Asgard."

"Asgard," Carter agreed. "If you can track them down, that is. Lately they've been pretty scarce."

"Oh, I think Thor still owes us a favour or two…or three. I say it's about time I gave the little grey fella a shout."

"Good luck, sir," said Carter. Her wide blue eyes spoke louder than her words—'I wish I could go with you'.

Jack gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder and went off to call in a marker or two…or three.

* * *

Night time on P9T 337 fell fast, and the overcast sky allowed no starlight to get through. It was a pressing darkness, as black as any cave, and Daniel lay pinned to the ground staring up at the blackness above and wishing for a break in the cloud cover—just a tiny glimpse of the stars to remind him that he wasn't totally alone in the universe.

The rain continued to patter down on him through the overhanging branches of the nearby trees, and he was starting to forget what it was like to be dry. But at least he wasn't cold—long after the sun had set the cloying heat persisted, and Daniel had a feeling it wasn't going to cool down any time soon.

He'd spent hours trying to free himself from his bamboo restraints, but the shoots were too tall and jagged to pull himself free and too thick and strong to break. Of course it didn't help that his right arm was useless and a few ribs were broken, making the smallest movement excruciatingly painful. He cursed himself for not thinking to bring a knife.

But there was no sense beating himself up about it now. No need to, really, since the planet was intent on doing that for him. There was nothing he could do now except try to stay alive and hope that his friends were stubborn enough to come after him.

As Daniel lay there fighting bleak thoughts, he heard a thumping sound a few feet away in the pitch black. He craned his neck in the direction of the sound and strained his eyes against the oppressive darkness, but he couldn't see a thing. He listened intently for any other sounds, but all he could hear, apart from the pounding of his own heart, was the wind howling through the trees. If it was an animal, then it was an extremely quiet and patient one.

A strong gust of wind rustled the trees overhead, and there were two more thumps—one coming from directly at his feet. Adrenalin coursed through his veins, but it wouldn't do him much good—in his current condition there was no way he could possibly fight or flee. Whatever they were, he was completely at their mercy.

Another thump, farther away this time, and Daniel was starting to think that he was safe…whatever this was, it wasn't an attack. And then something hit him hard in the chest.

Daniel gasped at the blinding pain in his ribs, and his left hand flew to his chest in an attempt to ward off any further attack. His hand encountered a round, sort of fuzzy-feeling thing rolling down his chest towards his groin, and in a moment of panic he forgot about the bamboo shoots and tried to kick himself away from it. Searing pain shot through his upper thigh as the move caused the bamboo to rip his leg wound open even further.

The baseball sized object rolled to a stop in the hollow of his pelvis and rocked slightly with the rise and fall of his breathing. It wasn't moving under its own power, he realized. It wasn't alive.

With reason slowly returning, Daniel slowly reached his hand down to touch it and received no adverse reaction from it. Emboldened now, he carefully picked it up, examining its weight, texture and shape with adept fingers. Its surface was fuzzy and there was a distinct cleft and dimple in the sphere. Applying some pressure, he found he was easily able to dent it.

It was a fruit! The wind in the tree branches overhead had knocked loose some fruit and it was landing in his little patch of bamboo. Daniel had to laugh at himself for getting so riled up over nothing.

It was the first bit of good fortune he'd had since the explosion. He'd brought a few power bars with him, but they wouldn't last him for long; so if the fruit was edible and if he was able to reach enough of it, he might have a viable food source, abundant enough to keep him alive until help arrived.

As a few more fruit thumped to the ground around him, Daniel finally allowed his exhaustion to claim him and he drifted off into a fitful sleep.

* * *

It was touch and go for a while, but Jack was finally able to secure Thor's help in hunting down Daniel. Thor was more than willing to lend a hand, but he'd let Jack know that he was in the middle of some tricky negotiations that required the Supreme Commander's attention. It would be another eighteen hours at the earliest before Thor could get away from his duties and swing by Earth to pick him up. From there, Thor estimated it would take just over eight days to reach P9T 337, pushing the engines all the way.

Nine days total.

If Daniel was still alive and well, he might be able to hold on that long, but if he was hurt, or if the environment on the planet was hostile, then nine days might as well be nine hundred. Jack wanted to tell Thor to screw the negotiations and get his skinny grey ass over here this minute, but he knew Thor was doing his best.

As much as he hated it, there was nothing he could do but wait. And pray.

* * *

In the grey light of dawn, Daniel Jackson awoke from a nightmare—the one in which a Goa'uld-infested Jack had sent them both hurtling off the cavern's ledge to the dark abyss below. Only this time, when he woke up, it was to the stark realization that his nightmare had come true in every way.

He'd ruined everything.

And as punishment he'd been consigned to a watery grave. Granted, not the churning ocean depths of his dream, but close…and far worse. He'd have much preferred the quick end promised to him in the nightmare, rather than this slow, torturous death, drenched in a ceaseless drizzle and unutterably alone on a distant planet.

What little sleep he'd gotten had been interspersed with waking moments racked with pain. What made it infinitely worse was that it was impossible for him to shift into a more comfortable position. The parts of him that weren't already bruised, broken or bleeding now ached with the need to move and stretch. He needed to take his mind off his discomfort. He needed to do something.

"So…what's on the agenda for today?" he voiced aloud to himself, and was surprised when he heard a reply in the form of a loud squawk coming from a huge, inky-black bird circling overhead. Its golden eyes kept him in sight as its spiralling descent brought it closer and closer until it finally broke through the tree cover.

Daniel's only coherent thought as the bird swooped down towards him was that those powerful-looking talons would soon put him out of his misery. He braced himself; eyes clenched shut, waiting to feel the sharp claws tear into his defenceless body, but all he felt was the fanning wind from the creature's great wings as it landed a short distance from his head. Daniel risked cracking an eye open and saw the bird hopping closer, its cold, reptilian gaze regarding him cautiously.

A few hops later, the bird must have decided Daniel wasn't much of a threat and it squawked out a long string of birdsong before latching its claws onto one of the fallen fruit on the ground. Daniel smiled, thankful to find he wasn't on the menu.

Overhead, several more of the large black birds appeared, drawn by the first bird's calls. And with swift precision, the small flock descended and made quick work of clearing his little bamboo patch of the fruit. With their bounty firmly grasped in their collective talons, the birds took flight as one, disappearing into the treetops where they could eat undisturbed.

The only piece of fruit they hadn't taken was the one tucked into the crook of Daniel's elbow—the one of 'chicken little' fame. He reached for it and brought it closer to his face so he could get a better look at it. It was a dark red, and fuzzy like a peach. It seemed to have softened somewhat overnight, and it dented easily under the pressure of his fingertips. He sniffed at it curiously; it smelled sweet, and his stomach rumbled in anticipation.

If the birds were eating it, then chances were pretty good they weren't poisonous, but there was no way of knowing for sure if it was safe for human consumption. Daniel thought about it for a moment. He only had three power bars, and an indefinite amount of time until he was rescued, if he was rescued at all. He would have to resort to eating the fruit eventually, he reasoned. He had no idea how much more fruit might land near enough for him to gather, and judging by the rapid ripening of the one he'd held onto, he had a feeling this was a limited time offer.

His mind made up, Daniel bit into the fruit. It was tart and sweet all at once, like a plum, and it was really juicy. Not bad at all, he thought, as he swallowed the first bite. When he didn't start convulsing and foaming at the mouth, he took it as a sign that it was okay to have another bite. He ate slowly, savouring every mouthful, and spat the pit out, watching the black stone arc in the air and land near the foot of the closest tree. Good shot, he thought, and grinned at his spectacular pit-spitting abilities.

It was probably his imagination, but he thought he was starting to feel a little better. Several more minutes passed and Daniel knew it wasn't just his imagination—he did feel better…a whole lot better, actually. The pain that had been a continuous presence since his tumble down the ravine had lessened considerably. It was still there, but what had once been an ear-splitting din was now little more than a nagging hum.

Daniel's eyelids slid shut, as he basked in the cessation of his discomfort and wondered how long it would last. He decided to take advantage of the situation and get some much needed sleep.

* * *

Back at the Cheyenne Mountain Complex, Jack O'Neill was alone in the darkened Briefing Room staring down into the empty Gate Room. It was the middle of the night, and everything looked so peaceful—there were no incoming wormholes, no teams heading off-world, no Goa'uld invasions…hell, there wasn't even any routine maintenance going on.

And it was really starting to piss him off. As far as he was concerned, this place should be bustling with people working overtime to get Daniel back. Whatever happened to 'rallying the troops'? For that matter, whatever happened to 'leave no man behind'?

Jack flipped open his watch and was dismayed to find that only five minutes had passed since the last time he'd checked. So much time on his hands…so little to do. Jack leaned his forehead against the cool, bullet-proof glass of the observation window and closed his eyes. With no other distractions, the memories he'd been fighting to suppress bobbed unbidden to the surface, demanding to be acknowledged.

He was back in the caverns on PX9 292. Jack had spent the entire day watching Daniel lose himself in what he claimed was one of the most important archaeological finds ever. It looked like nothing more than a bunch of cave paintings and broken bones to Jack, but Daniel was convinced he might have found hard physical evidence of the Missing Link.

Whatever.

All it meant to Jack was that it would be a long time before they would be able to drag their ecstatic archaeologist away from his discovery. Carter and Teal'c had abandoned him early on to do some spelunking, under the flimsy guise of collecting mineral samples for study. And that left Jack with nothing to do all day except watch Daniel play with his new toys.

Daniel's hyper, rambling account of the pre-historic people who once inhabited the caverns quickly became a droning background noise to Jack—something he nodded at occasionally whenever Daniel's crystal-blue eyes turned to him expectantly. His mind wandered as his eyes tracked his friend's progress from one new find to another, watching his long, inquisitive fingers fan across cave drawings as if their texture alone could unlock the secrets of the past. He watched as Daniel got so caught up in his work that he forgot he had an audience; his lips still moving despite the fact that he'd stopped talking aloud a long time ago.

Jack smiled—he loved it when Daniel did that, and it had been far too long since he'd seen this side of his friend. Years spent fighting the Goa'uld and doing whatever was necessary to survive had changed him. Daniel was a seasoned soldier now, as strong and as confident in battle as anyone Jack had ever worked with, but it had come at a price. Daniel had adapted. His passion for peaceful resolution had mellowed in him to become just another tool in his arsenal. And what's more, the man just seemed…tired. He'd seen too much and suffered more than any man should ever have to.

So it was with a certain amount of gladness that Jack watched the younger man return to his natural element, as absorbed and excited about this discovery as he had been about uncovering the purpose of the Stargate eight years earlier.

The day passed far more quickly than he'd expected, and soon Teal'c and Carter were back and setting up camp for the night. Jack was about to call out to Daniel to let him know it was dinner time, thinking he'd have to pry his fingers off the cave wall to get him to come, when he noticed the other man was no longer working.

Daniel was standing near the lip of the cavern, staring out at the ocean. As Jack approached, he found himself captivated by the way the warm light of the sunset made Daniel's youthful features glow. He looked…radiant. He looked happy. Jack felt an entirely different kind of glow come over him as he realized that he, too, was happy. Happier than he had been in years.

"Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?" asked Daniel.

Without missing a beat, Jack answered truthfully; "Can't say I have." The words, and the feelings behind them shocked Jack out of his reverie and he snapped his eyes forward in embarrassment, but not soon enough to avoid the curious glance of his friend.

He'd thought he'd recovered from the slip nicely, leaving Daniel none the wiser. But clearly he'd been wrong. Daniel had caught his slip up and it had burrowed its way into Daniel's subconscious, manifesting itself in the other man's nightmares. And no wonder! If it confused the hell out of Jack, he couldn't imagine how Daniel must have felt. Talk about your mixed signals! Jack had no idea what had made him so blatantly flirt with the other man, but he'd been naïve to think that Daniel hadn't noticed.

Jack had tried to pretend it had never happened; had completely convinced himself that it had just been some weird trick of the light, that he'd been caught up in the moment…that it had meant nothing. And yet afterwards, he'd done everything in his power to avoid Daniel whenever possible and to keep him at a distance whenever they had to be in the same room. Whatever was necessary to block the whole incident from his mind.

When it came right down to it, this whole mess was Jack's fault, and he'd be damned if he was going to let Daniel pay for his stupid mistake.

Jack sighed and rubbed his hands over his face, trying to banish the guilty thoughts from his mind. He checked his watch again. Only three minutes had passed.

"Dammit! Hurry up, Thor!" he muttered.

As if on cue, Jack was enveloped in a sparkling white light and beamed away.


	7. Chapter 7

"You call this a ship?" said O'Neill, taking in the interior of Thor's vessel, which was cramped enough to make a Goa'uld Tel'tak feel like the QEII in comparison.

Thor regarded him with his trademark stoicism, his large black eyes blinking at him serenely. "While the 'Samantha Carter' may be the smallest ship in the Asgard fleet, it is by far the fastest," replied Thor. "You said time was of the essence, did you not?"

"I did," O'Neill agreed, "but…doesn't this thing come in a full-size sedan model?"

Ignoring the colonel's jibe, Thor answered evenly: "You will find this vessel is well equipped to take care of your needs on this journey."

Jack looked around the tiny ship doubtfully. There was no division between the cockpit and the body of the ship, and the whole thing was just a boxy-looking dome-shaped room. He'd been in comfier-looking cargo vans. What was he supposed to sit on? Sleep on? This was going to be his home for the next sixteen days, he wondered? His dismay at that thought must have been evident, because Thor answered his questions as if he'd asked them out loud.

"There are panels along the walls, O'Neill," said Thor in a deadpan voice that Jack was convinced held a touch of sarcasm.

Jack cocked his head curiously and set about prodding the walls to reveal a veritable cornucopia of amenities. One panel slid back and a decent sized cot slid down from its hiding place. Two more panels opened up to become single-seat chairs. There was a lazy-susan deal in one section that swivelled to reveal one of the tiniest and most efficiently designed lavatories Jack had ever seen. The rest of the panels turned out to be a refrigeration unit, a medical supply cupboard, a cooking platform and a bunch of storage space. Jack nodded to himself, impressed. The little 'Samantha' did seem to have everything…with one exception.

"Thor, buddy," said Jack. "Is this your way of telling me you wanna be more than just friends?"

Thor tilted his oversized head at him, blinking his viscous-black eyes questioningly.

"One bed?" Jack explained. "I love you, Thor, you know that; but I don't think I'm ready for that kind of commitment."

"I am perfectly comfortable sleeping in my pilot seat," answered Thor, again, deadpan…or was that a smirk playing across those teeny little lips?... Nope. Deadpan. Jack sighed. It looked like he'd be hard-pressed for entertainment over the next eight days.

It also looked like Thor was under the impression they would be returning to Earth without Daniel. Either that or he had some interesting ideas about Jack's relationship with the archaeologist. Jack winced at that thought—the way they'd left things, he wasn't so sure Daniel would even be able to look him in the eye, let alone share a bed as him.

Jack sighed again and plopped down on the cot. Not bad, he thought. It was far more comfortable than it appeared to be. Settling down with his hands pillowing his head, Jack stared up at the rounded ceiling, already starting to feel the boredom weighing on him.

"This thing got cable?" he asked, and he could swear he head Thor sigh impatiently from his control centre.

By the time Daniel woke up again it was evening. The pain had returned, worse than before. Or perhaps it only felt worse because he'd had a temporary reprieve from it.

It was a starless night again, and he was still sopping wet, even though the rain seemed to have let up for the time being. Daniel felt a momentary wave of misery wash over him, and for the first time since he'd stepped through the 'gate onto this planet he felt truly disconsolate.

He felt a molten trail of tears score a path down his face before he even realized he was crying. As if he wasn't wet enough without adding his own waterworks into the mix! Mentally chastising himself for his lapse in optimism, Daniel forced himself to take a couple of deep breaths and calm down. Losing hope would do him no good. He had to keep fighting. He had to survive this somehow.

It was too dark to work on freeing himself from the bamboo shoots, and even if it wasn't, his efforts so far had gotten him absolutely nowhere. There really wasn't much he could do except wait and hope more fruit came his way.

He decided to do a mental inventory of everything he had on him and everything he had within reach, hoping he might come up with something he could use to free himself. He had the clothes on his back, which he desperately wished he could change out of. He had the wire cutters, which were too small to use on the bamboo, but might still come in handy. He had his micro-cassette recorder, which, by some miracle, had survived his spill down the ravine. He had seventy-five cents change in his pockets and a minty toothpick, still in its wrapper. Not much of a survival kit…but then, he hadn't really counted on surviving.

Daniel pulled out the cassette recorder. It may not be much help as far as survival went, but at least he could use it to send a final message to his friends if worse came to worst. He pressed the record button, but nothing came out of his mouth, so he hit stop and tapped the little machine against his lips, trying to think of something to say. Normally it wouldn't have been a problem—usually it was keeping his mouth shut that was difficult—but the pain was making it hard to concentrate, and he wanted his goodbye speech to be perfect. Trusting that he would eventually come up with something pithy to say, he set the recorder on voice activation and tucked it into the breast pocket of his jacket to keep it dry.

There was no wind that night, and that meant no free food falling from the sky. By morning, Daniel's stomach lining felt like it was eating itself, and the rain had started up again, dampening his spirits as much as his clothes. He had almost completely dried off, and had been enjoying the sensation, so when the rain pelted down on his face again, he let out a loud, frustrated growl. Then he remembered that his recorder was on voice activation and he dug his fingers into his pocket and rewound the tape. Only, he went too far, and when he hit playback, he was startled to hear Jack's voice coming from the machine's speaker.

"…_that thing on? Don't tell me you've been recording this the whole time!"_

"_Okay, Jack, I won't tell you."_

"_Seriously, turn that thing off. I want that tape destroyed."_

"_Why? I think you've got a lovely singing voice."_

"_Gimme that thing!"_

"_And lose out on the best blackmailing opportunity I'll ever get? Not a chance!"_

"_Gimme, Danny, or I swear…"_

"_No way."_

"_Daniel, give it to me. That's an order."_

"_Oh, you'll have to do better than that, Jack."_

"_Daniel…?"_

"_Jack…?"_

"_Sit still!"_

"_Get off!"_

"_Daniel Jackson, do you require assistance?"_

"_No. Teal'c, I'm fine. Flattened, but fine."_

Daniel hit the stop button. Hearing Jack like that, so relaxed…so playful, was like a slap in the face. It was a reminder that, even if he did make it home, things would never be as comfortable between them now as they were then. He squared his jaw, pushing away those depressing thoughts and resetting the recorder to voice activation. There was no sense dwelling on the past or worrying about the future. All that counted now was surviving to see another day.

The wind finally picked up late in the day and the sky grew dark with bruise-coloured rain clouds. It looked like he was in for one hell of a storm, and within minutes the rain was lashing at him relentlessly, the wind howling through the trees above. It didn't take long for the fruit-laden branches to unburden themselves of their load, and the ripe fruit rained down into his little clearing. Daniel greedily gathered as much fruit as he could reach and tucked them in close to his body. There was no way he was sharing his stash with those birds, he thought.

The first bite of fruit was so sweet and delicious he actually moaned out loud. And to think, he'd almost given in and opened up one of his energy bars! Some of the dark, red juice dribbled out of the corner of his mouth, but Daniel didn't care; he was too focused on filling his empty stomach to care about tidiness. The ever-present pain was already starting to retreat after eating two of the fruits, and as he finished a third, he was left feeling pleasantly numb. Daniel figured the fruit must be a naturally occurring analgesic, and he thought maybe he should try to save one for Janet to study.

The sudden realization that Janet would probably never see him again, let alone get her hands on the fruit, sent a dull pang of regret through Daniel. Then he remembered the recorder in his pocket and decided that he could at least tell the others about the fruit—and everything else that had happened while he was on the planet—in the hopes that the information may prove helpful in the future. He smiled a little, happy to finally have something useful to do.

"Uh…Okay, where do I begin? I guess I should start with what happened after I stepped through the Stargate…"

…Daniel awoke with a start, wondering when, exactly, he'd fallen asleep. It was dark now, so he had to have been unconscious for several hours at least. He blinked a few times—God it got so dark at night…and so quiet. He still felt numb from the fruit, and the overall sensation made him feel like he was floating in a sensory deprivation tank, something he'd tried once in his college days. There was absolutely nothing to distract him from the random and confusing images dredged up from the darkest recesses of his mind.

A tiny part of him was lucid enough to realize that the fruit, aside from being an analgesic, must also be a hallucinogenic. It was the only thing that would explain the kaleidoscopic thoughts and images that were spinning through his mind. Ridiculous things like painting Teal'c a blue-green colour to better suit his name, or chasing General Hammond down the corridors of the SGC while singing 'happy birthday' at the top of his lungs, were interspersed with real memories of Shau'ri and his parents. It was getting harder and harder to sort out what was real and what wasn't. A memory of Jack thrusting into him against a sunset-lit cavern wall brought reality crashing down around him—no way was _that_ memory real!

Jack.

God how he hated the way he'd left things with Jack. If only he'd had more time to set things straight between them. And what made it worse was that he couldn't even say anything to him on the recorder for fear of saying the wrong thing. He couldn't bear the thought of making things worse than they already were.

Daniel's head throbbed, and the pain in the rest of his body was rapidly returning. Without a second thought, he plucked one of the fruits off the ground and devoured it in four bites, and then he grabbed another one and slowly savoured it. Soon the jumbled mess of thoughts and images in his head began to make some sort of sense to him and as his pain ebbed away, he let himself drift off on a black tide of silence.

Jack was occupying himself with trying to uncover the inner workings of the 'Samantha Carter's panel system…alright, he was opening and closing the bed panel, watching the cot slide up into the wall, stopping it part way, then sliding it back out again. It had kept him occupied for well over an hour.

Thor glanced at Colonel O'Neill from his control panel, his eyes drawn down into thin black slits. It was as close to a scowl as Jack had ever seen on an Asgard face and he dutifully relented from his futzing activities.

"You know, time would go a lot faster if you had cable," said Jack, sauntering over to stand next to Thor. The view out the front portal was exactly the same as it had been for the past six days. Streaky stars zooming past them at a nauseating speed. "Not that I'm complaining—I love fiddling with 'Samantha's panels," he added with a slippery grin.

Jack watched as Thor drummed his long, alien fingers on the arm of his chair. The little grey guy seemed to be mentally counting to ten. Jack smiled. It had taken longer than he'd expected, but he'd finally managed to drive his diminutive friend up the wall.

"Perhaps you might like to choose a ceiling-scape to look at," said Thor with newly-reclaimed patience.

"Huh?"

"Press the light dial into the wall and turn it clockwise."

Jack shrugged and did as he was instructed. When he pushed the dial into the wall the entire ceiling of the dome lit up with a projection of a blue sky, spotted with fluffy white clouds.

"Cool," said Jack and turned the dial. Another projection, this time a starlit night, took its place. He skimmed through the selection and settled on an underwater scene that made him feel like he was snorkelling. "Sweet," he said and lay down on the cot to watch the fish swim by. "Can you play games on this thing?"

If Thor had had shoulders they would have slumped in defeat.

It was dark. It was always dark now—dark and silent and so peaceful. He was awake now…at least he thought he was awake. It was getting harder and harder to tell the difference; day, night, awake, asleep, reality, hallucination…none of it made sense anymore. The only thing he was certain of was that when the pain managed to break through the fruit-induced numbness it was unbearable—far worse than it should have been, because it was the only thing he could feel. And it was starting to come back now.

He had no idea if he was screaming or not—if he was, he couldn't hear it—but the pain was so excruciating he'd be surprised if he wasn't screaming loud enough to scare off the wildlife for miles around. His shoulder and thigh were ablaze with fiery pain and the rest of his body echoed that pain with every beat of his heart. It felt like he was being brutally tortured, but the corner of his mind that was still clinging to reality told him that wasn't the case. He could no longer remember what had happened to bring him to this—hell, most of the time he couldn't remember his own name—but something told him that he'd brought this suffering on himself.

Fruit. He needed the fruit or the pain would make him lose his mind completely. Because as much as the hallucinations, blindness, deafness and numbness frightened him, it was better than the alternative. He felt around on the ground nearby, his dulled sense of touch making it difficult to identify what was fruit and what wasn't. Once he grabbed hold of something that seemed to be about the right shape and size, he brought it up to his mouth, sniffing it first, and then licking it. Only his senses of smell and taste seemed to be immune to the fruits' effects, and he could tell by the sweet tang on his tongue that the object in his hand was, indeed, a fruit.

He bit into it frenziedly, sucking down the numbing juices, immediately feeling the pain begin to recede. A few minutes were all it took until he was lost again to the void.

Eight days…pushing nine.

Jack paced incessantly behind Thor's control console, not giving a damn how irritating he was being. He stopped suddenly and approached Thor, who swivelled around to face him and held up a long, thin finger before Jack could speak.

"No, we are not there yet, O'Neill," said Thor, and then he quickly added: "And, yes, we are going as fast as we can."

Jack's shoulders slumped and he just stood there looking pathetic until Thor took pity on him.

"I estimate we will arrive at the planet's coordinates in less than five hours. I suggest you use the time to catch up on your sleep."

Jack wanted to argue with him, but he had a point. He hadn't had a good night's sleep since he started this mission, and he would need to be well rested once he got to the planet. "Alright," he agreed reluctantly, "but you'll wake me the second we get there, right?"

Thor took a moment to answer, as if he was considering letting his companion sleep as long as possible just so he could get some peace and quiet. "Of course, O'Neill," he said at last.

It seemed to Jack like his head had barely hit his pillow when Thor shook him awake again. "We there yet?" asked Jack groggily.

"Yes, O'Neill, we are there," said Thor, but there was something indefinable in the small alien's inflection that set off Jack's alarms.

"There's a 'but', isn't there?" he asked, quickly getting to his feet.

"We are currently in orbit around the planet, but…"

"I knew it!" Jack exclaimed.

"…But," Thor continued patiently," the sensors are not picking up any human life signs."

Jack had thought he'd been prepared for the worst, but still the news hit him like a sucker punch to the gut. He'd lost Daniel before—too many times—but for some reason it hit him harder this time and his knees gave out, dropping him heavily back onto the cot. He had to remind himself just to keep breathing, and for the first time since leaving Earth, he was glad Sam and Teal'c weren't with him. For once he didn't have to put on a brave face for the sake of his team. He needed to be alone, needed to feel his grief. Needed to process what had happened.


	8. Chapter 8

"I don't suppose there's any chance your sensors might be wrong?" asked Jack.

Thor tilted his head to the side as if debating whether he should answer truthfully or not. "I do not wish to raise your hopes, O'Neill."

Jack's eyebrows shot up at that. "You mean there _is_ hope?" he asked.

"There is a very slight possibility that the storm systems in the vicinity of the planet's Stargate may be interfering with our sensors enough to mask very weak human life signs."

Jack shot to his feet again. "So what're we waiting for? Beam me down there!"

"Colonel O'Neill, before you go down to the planet there is something you should see." Thor manoeuvred one of the opalescent crystals on the control panel in front of him and the screen lit up with a computerized representation of the planet's surface. Thor zoomed in on one section of the image. "The cloud cover is too heavy to get a visual of the surface, but as you can see from this topographical relief, the blast radius around the Stargate is almost three kilometres."

Jack frowned at the screen. "You're sure that's where the Stargate was?"

"That is the only location on the planet where our sensors detected the presence of naqahdah."

Jack nodded, still studying the screen intently. "What's this?" he asked, pointing to a section of the blast crater's circumference that looked flattened, sliced off.

"The heavy lines here indicate a sharp drop…perhaps a cliff," said Thor as he inclined his head closer to the screen. "O'Neill, if Doctor Jackson did not make if clear of the blast zone, there is a very good chance you will not find his remains." This time there was no mistaking the sorrow in the Asgard's voice.

Jack hung his head and rubbed his hands over his face. He knew in his heart that Thor was right—there was no way Daniel could have escaped an explosion of that magnitude. But he hadn't come all this way just to give up now.

"Right. Set me down along the outer edge of that crater. Like you said—he couldn't have survived if he hadn't made it clear of the blast zone, so I'll have to work on the assumption that he _did_ clear the area."

Thor gave a slight nod and plucked a crystal from one of his consoles. "Take this communicator with you. If you succeed in finding Doctor Jackson you will need to place this on him so I will be able to transport him onto the 'Samantha Carter'."

"How much daylight do I have left down there?" asked Jack as he gathered together the provisions he thought he might need.

"You will have six and a half hours of sunlight," said Thor.

"So…plenty of time, then," said Jack.

Thor gave him a slight inclination of his head in response. "However, if you do not find him before nightfall, it will be another fourteen hours until the sun rises again."

"Got it—no dawdling," said Jack. He pulled a rain slick out of his pack and shrugged it on over his shoulders. Then he slung his pack onto his back and gave Thor the thumb's up.

Thor had set Jack down at the northern-most point along the blast circumference, and he'd been walking eastward along the rim of the crater for over four hours. So far he'd seen no sign of Daniel and he was starting to worry that his search might take longer than he'd hoped. A lot longer. Even though he knew Daniel was smart enough to stick close to the Stargate in anticipation of a rescue attempt, there was still a hell of a lot of ground to cover and very little daylight left.

His progress was hampered somewhat by the heavy rain and dense foliage, forcing him to walk slowly to do a proper scan of the forest. He called out to Daniel as he walked, knowing that the other man would respond if he was able to.

As Jack approached the spot where the crater and forest gave way to a freshly carved cliff face, he saw a flock of large black birds circling high overhead. One by one they swooped down through the tree cover, cawing and fighting each other in midair. Jack had a bad feeling about the birds' behaviour. He wasn't really much of a bird expert, but the circling reminded him of desert vultures, and where there were vultures…

Jack really didn't want to think about what had attracted the birds, so he didn't. Instead, he jumped into action. Scanning the cliff face for a safe path down, he spotted a gentler slope a few yards away that looked promising. The earth was muddy and slick beneath his feet and Jack half-slid his way down to the bottom of the deep ravine. He had to backtrack a ways, skirting around monumentally large boulders and rivers of mud until he finally came upon a small clearing.

Jack stopped dead in his tracks and so did his heart. Lying in the middle of the clearing, skewered to the ground and limp as a rag doll, was Daniel Jackson. His skin was a waxy, alabaster white, and his impossibly blue eyes stared sightlessly up at the sky, unblinking despite the steady pelting of rain on his face. His lips were stained crimson, a dark red trickle escaping from the corner of his mouth. There was no movement as far as Jack could see—not even the tell-tale rise and fall of his chest to indicate Daniel was still breathing.

Jack forced his feet to move, to carry him closer to his fallen team member. He felt detached, like he was floating—aware of his surroundings, but not a part of them. It seemed like an eternity before he finally reached Daniel, before he was kneeling at his side at last, and then the military officer in him kicked in and he assessed the situation on autopilot.

With the back of his hand, Jack pressed against the skin of Daniel's forearm. It was cool to the touch. He then dug his fingers into the pulse point on Daniel's wrist. At first he felt nothing, but just as he was about to give up hope entirely, he thought he felt a faint pulse. Jack's own pulse jumped in response, and he moved his fingers up to Daniel's throat to press against his carotid artery. He hadn't imagined it—the pulse was there, thready and weak, but definitely there. Jack glanced up at the heavens and gave a great sigh of relief before getting back to the business of assessing Daniel's injuries.

The arm was clearly broken, and the wounds caused by the plants which sprouted out of his shoulder and thigh looked infected. Upon closer inspection, he saw that not only were they infected, but some of the local insect population had also decided to take up residence in the open wounds. And that wasn't even what had Jack worried the most. What really had him worried was the catatonic state Daniel seemed to have slipped into. He was completely unresponsive…which, under the circumstances might be a blessing, Jack thought, seeing as it was going to hurt like a rat bastard to get him untangled from the plants.

So far, the only truly good news was that he'd discovered it wasn't blood dribbling out of Daniel's mouth, as he'd thought at first. From the way his fingers were stained the same dark shade of red as his lips, it was a pretty safe assumption that the cause was the apple-sized fruits scattered on the ground around Daniel. That was good news. Hell, it was great news! Because if some of the juices were still dribbling out of his mouth, then he couldn't have been unconscious long.

Jack gently tapped Daniel's cheek but got no reaction. Softly shaking him by the shoulders got no response either.

"Daniel? Danny, can you hear me?" he asked. Nothing. Not even a blink. Jack pressed the communicator Thor had given him and spoke. "Thor—I've found him. He's in pretty rough shape, but he's alive."

"That is excellent news, O'Neill," Thor replied from the 'Samantha Carter'.

"Uh…Thor, how exactly does your transporter beam thing work?"

"Much the same way as a Goa'uld ring device. Matter is broken down to the molecular level and reintegrated aboard the ship."

"Thought so," said Jack. "Listen…Daniel somehow managed to get himself shish-kabobbed on some of the local flora. If you beam him up, what'll happen?"

"Doctor Jackson would rematerialize exactly as he is," Thor answered. "The plant would be beamed up as well, just like his clothing or anything else in his possession."

"So he won't turn into some weird human/bamboo hybrid or anything freaky like that?"

"No, O'Neill."

"Any chance you could beam him up and leave the plant behind?" asked Jack.

There was a pause as Thor thought about it. "Normally it would be a simple matter to calibrate the transporter to focus solely on Doctor Jackson's genetic code, however, as I mentioned earlier, the heavy storm activity in your vicinity is affecting the ship's sensors and may also make such a precise reintegration impossible."

"What's the worst case scenario?" asked Jack.

"Doctor Jackson could re-molecularize as a human/bamboo hybrid, as you put it, and would quickly die."

"Okey-dokey, then. I guess the plant's coming with us," said Jack and placed the crystal Thor had given him on Daniel's jacket. "We're all set, Thor. Let's bring him home."

With a blinding white flash, Jack, Daniel, and the two bamboo shoots, root and all, were brought aboard the 'Samantha Carter'. The thick roots under Daniel's shoulder and thigh lifted those parts of his body awkwardly off the floor of the ship, making his head loll back unnaturally. Daniel showed no sign of discomfort. In fact, he wasn't showing any signs of life at all, and Jack felt an uncharacteristic wave of panic flood through him. What if he'd done the wrong thing? What if, by moving Daniel he'd inadvertently dealt the man a mortal blow?

Jack was aware that Thor had silently glided his way over to the two of them, but he couldn't bring himself to tear his eyes off of Daniel long enough to acknowledge the little guy's presence.

"He is alive, O'Neill," said Thor in his usual soft tone of voice.

"You sure about that?" asked Jack, kneeling down next to Daniel, feeling for breath with the back of his hand. It took a moment, but eventually Jack _did_ feel a slight stirring of breath against his skin and he gave Thor a worry-laced glance. "I don't suppose you've got one of those stasis doohickeys on board?"

"Unfortunately, no," said Thor. "However, his medical scan indicates that his injuries are not life-threatening."

"You could have fooled me," said Jack. "If he's so healthy, why's he barely breathing?"

"I do not know, O'Neill," answered Thor. "Doctor Jackson's vital signs are steady but weak, only not so weak as to endanger his life. As to the cause of his catatonic state or the chances of his recovering fully, I cannot say without the aid of proper diagnostic tools."

"Uh-huh," said Jack. "Well, first things first—let's get those trees out of him." Jack pulled out his knife and was about to start sawing at the bamboo shoot in Daniel's shoulder when Thor put a slim hand on his arm, stopping him.

"That will not be necessary, O'Neill," he said. "While it was not possible to transport Daniel to the ship without also transporting the plant, now that he is here and free of the planet's atmospheric disturbances, I will be able to beam the plant back down to the planet's surface."

"Well why didn't you just say so?"

"I believe I just did," Thor stated flatly.

"Great—then go do that voodoo that you do so well," said Jack with a wave of his hand. Thor gave him a couple of rapid blinks—the Asgard equivalent of a Teal'c eyebrow raise—and retreated to his console to work his magic. Jack, in the meantime, moved around so he could support Daniel's upper body. In Jack's opinion he still looked far too waxy and…well…dead. He could only hope that Thor's medical kit was up to the task of bringing Daniel back from the brink of…whatever it was he was on the brink of. "Hang in there, Daniel. We'll have you patched up in no time," he said, and nearly choked in relief when Daniel blinked at him. "Daniel? Danny, did you hear me?" he asked. "Blink twice if you can hear me." He waited, but Daniel made no response—just kept staring up at the ceiling. Jack sighed and gave Daniel's head a gentle pat.

"Are you ready, O'Neill?" asked Thor from the other side of a clear glass console.

"Got him," Jack confirmed.

Thor slid an opalescent crystal down the glass panel and turned it counter-clockwise ninety degrees. The bamboo shoots suddenly glowed bright white in the dimly lit ship and then disappeared. Daniel's thigh, no longer supported by the thick roots of the plant, collapsed onto the floor with a soft thud. Jack winced in sympathetic pain, even though Daniel hadn't appeared to feel anything.

Jack carefully set Daniel's head down on the floor, absently smoothing down his friend's spiky wet hair. "See? That wasn't so bad, was it? Would have hurt a hell of a lot more if I'd had to remove them the old-fashioned way, believe me." Staring down at Daniel, Jack found himself oddly reluctant to stop stroking his hair and get down to business.

"We must clean him and dress his wounds now, O'Neill," said Thor, finally breaking through Jack's reverie.

"Right. Got any scissors?" asked Jack as he unceremoniously dumped the ship's medical supply kit onto the bed. Sifting through the clutter, he managed to dig out a bottle of antiseptic and enough bandages to wrap Daniel's entire body twice over.

Thor appeared at his side, brandishing a tool that looked nothing like scissors. Jack's baffled expression upon being presented with the tool cleared instantly when Thor turned it on. What looked like a short red laser beam lit up between the instrument's two prongs.

"Cool," said Jack, testing it out on one of Daniel's sleeves.

"Could you not simply undo the buttons O'Neill?" asked Thor.

"This is way easier…and besides, once he's out of these clothes I fully intend to set fire to them." Ten days pinned to the muddy ground with no toilet facilities made the battered BDUs unfit for human use, but Jack didn't so much as bat an eye at the soiled mess as he set to work carefully cutting Daniel free from his clothing.

As the pale landscape of Daniel's body was slowly revealed, Jack couldn't help wincing at all the bruises that marked the waxy-white skin. The worst of it was along his arms and legs, although there were some real beauties on his ribs, too, and he knew that when they turned the man over there would be even more bruising on his back. Then there was the broken arm, lying twisted and swollen on the floor, and the two infected puncture wounds, looking an angry shade of red and teeming with larvae.

Jack tried to keep it professional as he prepared to clean Daniel's wounds. He'd seen worse, after all—much worse, actually—but his military training seemed to have gone right out the window. He couldn't keep his hands from shaking as he poured disinfectant over Daniel's shoulder and thigh, spilling more on the floor than on his patient. It wasn't like him to get flustered, especially when a team member needed him. More than anything, he wished Daniel would snap out of it and help him out. He wasn't a medic. He had basic triage, but that was it, and with Daniel unresponsive, he was worried that his efforts might be doing more damage than good. Jack was inwardly relieved when Thor quietly took charge, rolling a small cart with clean cloths and a large basin of warm water over to Jack.

"I will attend to Doctor Jackson's wounds, O'Neill, if you will attend to cleaning him?" Jack nodded, grateful to the little grey guy for giving him something useful and non-destructive to do.

With single-minded determination, Jack slowly soaped up and rinsed off his friend, cleaning ten day's worth of caked on mud and filth from every inch of his body, carefully lifting him and turning him over as necessary. With Thor close at hand, Jack was able to maintain a level of detachment that made it easier to touch Daniel, to clean him everywhere he had to and not feel awkward about it. And when he was finished, and Thor had disinfected and wrapped Daniel's wounds, they got him up onto the bed and laid him out. Only then did Jack really acknowledge his friend's nakedness and back away, averting his eyes.


	9. Chapter 9

Thor blinked his inky black eyes up at Jack and then turned them towards Daniel, who lay unconscious and naked on the bed. As if suddenly understanding the cause of Jack's uneasiness, Thor opened a wall panel and took out a clean bed sheet, which he then carefully spread over Daniel.

"Thanks," Jack mumbled under his breath, and he took a step closer to his injured friend. "So…I guess it's time to tackle that arm, huh?"

Thor gave him a delicate nod. "It will require a great deal of force to get the bones properly realigned. I am afraid you will have to do most of the work, O'Neill," he said apologetically.

Jack's lips hardened into a grim line, but he nodded—it had to be done, and at least Daniel wouldn't be awake for it. He got in place, kneeling next to the bed with his hands poised over Daniel's right arm, waiting for instructions.

With Thor guiding him, Jack pulled, twisted and splinted the broken arm, wincing every time he did something he knew would be excruciatingly painful. He was certain Daniel would come to in the middle of it, and the thought of it made him queasy. And that was something new…Jack was anything but squeamish, and he couldn't help wondering if he'd have been so disturbed if it had been Teal'c or even Carter lying there. Then he couldn't help wondering why he'd wondered that in the first place.

Damn it, he thought to himself—even unconscious, Daniel had the ability to thoroughly fluster him. Flustered. Yeah, that was the perfect word to describe what Jack was feeling as he tucked the battered archaeologist under a warm blanket. Flustered…and maybe a little spooked over his own reactions. That was _Daniel_. Just Daniel. Nothing had changed…had it? Jack figured that if he kept telling himself nothing had changed, he might just start to believe it.

With Daniel now laid out on the bed, all tucked in and cosy (or at least as cosy as an unconscious person could get), Jack got down to the distasteful task of disposing of Daniel's soiled clothing. Thor had finished taking various samples from the clothes to study, and had refused to let him set fire to the offensive garments, so Jack would have to settle for transporting them off the 'Carter' and into the vast emptiness of space to rot and reek for all time. Considering that was almost how O'Neill himself had gone out, he figured there was a kind of poetic justice to it.

With the offending garments held at arms' length for the sake of his olfactory senses, Jack sat on the floor and began rifling through the pockets, emptying them of everything but the toothpicks. When he got to the jacket pockets, he came across Daniel's recorder and noticed that it had been switched to voice activation. The little tape inside was at the end of its spool, and Jack took a quick peek back at his unconscious friend, wondering what he'd found to talk about while pinned to the ground on an alien planet that could possibly fill and entire tape. Was it a final farewell? A last will and testament?

Another peek at Daniel confirmed that his snooping would go unnoticed for a while yet, and Thor was too busy plotting a course back to Earth to pay him any mind, so Jack hit the rewind button. The little machine whirred to life in his hand, and when the tape was roughly half rewound, Jack hit the play button.

Throat rending screams erupted from the recorder's speaker, shattering the silence in the cramped Asgard vessel. Shocked, Jack fumbled with the machine, trying to shut it off. When silence was finally restored, Jack shot an anxious glance over his shoulder at Daniel, sure that the nerve-wracking screams must have awakened him, but the younger man continued to lay motionless on the bed only a few feet away. However, when he turned around again he found himself eyeball to big, glossy eyeball with Thor.

"Jeez! Thor, you shouldn't sneak up on a guy like that!" he said, casting a quick look over his shoulder again.

"I am sorry, O'Neill," said Thor. He blinked his large eyes as he studied the recorder in Jack's hand, and then he returned his passive stare back to Jack.

"Hey—it's not like I'm reading his diary—Daniel used this to make field observations; he'd expect me to listen to it."

Thor tilted his head ever so slightly and continued to blink at Jack in silence.

"Okay," Jack admitted, "he probably wouldn't want me to hear him screaming like that, but it's too late now. We gotta listen to the whole thing—find out what happened to him."

"I agree," said Thor. "Under the circumstances we do not have the luxury of respecting Daniel Jackson's privacy."

Jack winced. That was exactly how the whole mess had started—they'd pried into Daniel's most intimate thoughts and loosed up a big pink elephant to trample all over their status quo. Oh yeah—a really _big_ pink elephant. And it was stomping all over Jack's peace of mind.

Trying not to think too much about it, Jack rewound the tape to the beginning, and then had to fast forward through a rather embarrassing personal moment of his that Daniel had caught on tape.

"Dammit—I thought I told him to erase that," he mumbled as the tape rolled forward.

Stop. Play.

Daniel's strained voice crackled through the recorder's speaker: "…as I suspected, the flag drew the weapon's fire and I was able to get close enough to plant the C4 in the power source and set the timer. The power source was definitely naqahdah based, if the magnitude of the explosion was anything to go by..."

There was a pause and a blip as the voice activation stopped and restarted the recording. "Found out the fruit is edible…"

Another pause/blip: "…it, uh…helps with the pain…makes me feel kind of numb…numb is good…"

Pause/blip: "…Teal'c…blue-y green like the colour…"

The entries after that point stopped making any sort of sense, and soon Daniel's short, nonsensical attempts at speech had deteriorated into grunts and hisses of pain. Shortly after that the screaming had started.

Unnerved, Jack forced himself to listen to the whole thing on the off chance that his friend may have become lucid enough at some point to speak coherently again. But the rest of the 45 minute tape recorded nothing else but screams.

When the tape ended, Jack rubbed the heels of his fists into his eyes and shuddered. He placed the recorder down on Thor's console and jolted when the screaming started again. Jack looked down at the machine in confusion—he was certain he'd turned it off. That was when he realized the screaming was live, not Memorex.

In two long steps Jack was at Daniel's side. The man's voice quickly petered out—the abused vocal chords too raw to sustain the blood-curdling vocalizations for long.

"Daniel? Daniel, can you hear me?"

Blue eyes popped open, but although Jack was right in front of him, he knew Daniel couldn't see him. Daniel's left hand patted desperately around on the bed beside him, and Jack instinctively reached out to grab hold of it. But Daniel grabbed him first, his hand gripping tightly around Jack's fist.

Jack felt Daniel squeeze his fist cautiously before drawing it up to his face to sniff at it. Jack watched Daniel curiously as the other man continued to smell him, a small frown of confusion building on his team-mate's pain-ridden face. It wasn't until Daniel licked him that Jack tried to yank his hand away. Unsuccessfully.

"Whoa there, Daniel! I'm not your next meal, if that's what you're thinking."

Daniel had Jack's fist in a death grip and had brought it back up to his face again. His brow drew together in deep concentration as he continued to sniff and taste Jack's hand, despite Jack's attempts to extricate himself. Daniel's tongue darted out to wet his lips, which then parted as he mouthed out: "Jack?"

"Right here, Daniel," said Jack. "I'm right here."

"Jack?" Daniel mouthed again, trying in vain to get his vocal chords to work.

That was when Jack realized that Daniel couldn't hear anything either. Blind and deaf and left suffering and alone on a planet countless light years away from home… It was enough to bring a lump to Jack's throat.

"Yeah, Danny, it's me," he said softly and gave Daniel's hand a good squeeze.

Daniel's face broke into an expression that was half smile, half painful grimace. "Knew you'd come," he whispered hoarsely before his body curled up into a tight ball of agony on the bed.

Thor arrived beside Jack and injected something into Daniel's shoulder. "For the pain," Thor explained.

They stood side by side next to the bed, watching the drug take effect. Slowly, Daniel's ragged breathing evened out and his features smoothed into a peaceful expression. Jack raised a questioning eyebrow at Thor.

"He is merely asleep, O'Neill," Thor assured him.

"Uh-huh," Jack said, clearly having some doubts on the veracity of that pronouncement.

"You, too, should try to get some sleep, O'Neill," Thor stated and went back to his command chair.

"And where, exactly, am I supposed to do that?" Jack asked sarcastically, pointedly looking around for another bed.

Thor didn't feel it was necessary to answer that question and simply blinked at him in a way that was really starting to get on Jack's nerves.

Jack looked down at the bed and the huddled figure of Daniel Jackson taking up half the space. Theoretically there was enough room for the two of them to be relatively comfortable, but it would involve touching…and right now Jack wasn't so sure that was a good idea. However, the only alternative would be to sleep on the floor for the rest of the journey home.

Jack seriously contemplated it. But in the end, comfort won out over decorum and he cautiously climbed onto the bed next to Daniel.

He needn't have been so worried—Daniel was completely oblivious to his presence. Jack lay ram-rod straight on his back, staring up at the projected night sky on the ship's ceiling. Oh yeah—this is comfy, he thought, and forced his eyes shut.

Jack was barely drifting off to sleep when he sensed something was wrong. Instantly alert, Jack sought out the source of the problem. He didn't have to look far. Lying next to him in the bed, Daniel had begun to pant and moan—two things Jack really didn't need to hear from his naked bedfellow at the moment. Jack reprimanded himself, realizing that Daniel was obviously in a great deal of discomfort.

"Daniel?" he asked, then mentally smacked his forehead—Daniel couldn't hear him!

The moaning had become a pathetic whimpering that was too much for Jack to bear. "Thor!" he shouted. "Can't you give him something? Daniel's suffering here!"

Thor, who'd been quite happily sleeping until Jack had barked at him, took a moment to get his bearings. "It has only been forty-three minutes since I gave him his injection. I will not be able to give him another for some time."

Exasperated, Jack turned his attention back to Daniel, who was now twitching and causing himself even more pain. Not knowing what else to do, Jack wrapped a protective arm around his friend's waist and hugged him close. He had no idea if Daniel even knew he was there…but he wasn't doing it for Daniel's benefit. This was all about his need to do something—anything—to feel useful. He was actually a little surprised when Daniel responded to the hug and relaxed in his arms.

The next morning Jack woke up with a smug-looking Asgard watching over him. With some embarrassment Jack realized he still had Daniel in a bear hug, his face buried in the other man's neck. Jack hastily disengaged himself and jumped out of bed, brushing out the wrinkles in his clothes as if this was his regular morning routine.

On the bed, Daniel rolled onto his back and gasped voicelessly at the spearing pain in his shoulder, ribs and thigh. It was almost unbearable, and he let out an exhausted whine.

Waking up to the pain was so much worse after the dream he'd had. It was a good one, for a change. He'd dreamt that Jack had found him. It was so real he could almost taste him…okay, that was weird. In his dream, he'd licked Jack, tasting him like he was one of the overripe fruits he'd been collecting and eating. It was a weird dream. Weird, but damn good, too.

"Jack," he sighed sadly, mourning the death of his dream. And then he felt something. Actually _felt_ someone grab his hand. "Jack?" he said again, and was rewarded with a distinct squeezing of his hand. His sensations muted, like his whole body was wrapped up in thick gauze, he nevertheless distinctly felt Jack squeeze his hand. He didn't think he'd ever felt anything so amazing in his life. It was enough to make him temporarily forget his pain, and he was sure he must be grinning like a loon.

He couldn't imagine what he must look like. He knew he must be bloody and battered and covered in filth, and he could envision Jack's concerned face frowning down at him, even if he couldn't see it. Were his eyes even open, he wondered? Daniel tested them, blinking his eyes a few times until he was fairly certain they were open. He looked around, deluding himself that if he tried hard enough he could will his blindness to retreat. He decided to try speaking again—his voice seemed to be the only part of him still worked properly.

"Thirsty," he said, but he had no clue how it came out. He still couldn't hear a damned thing. A minute passed and then Daniel suddenly found himself coughing up a lungful of water, the action setting his ribs on fire.

When the coughing stopped and the pain in his ribs levelled off in intensity, Daniel tried talking again. "Need to smell it. Taste it. I can't feel anything. Only in my fingertips."

A few long moments passed before Daniel could smell something sweet. He tentatively stuck out his tongue and tasted a drop of the sugary liquid. He wasn't sure, but he guessed that Jack would have given him a straw, so he tried closing his lips and sucking, and was instantly rewarded with a flood of juice in his mouth. Nothing had ever tasted so good. He gulped it down as fast as he could, but soon it was gone. He tried reaching for the straw with his lips and tongue and figured that Jack must have taken it away from him.

"Still thirsty, Jack," he grumbled. He felt Jack squeeze his hand again, but got no more juice for his efforts. It was then that Daniel noticed that the pain was receding. "Feeling better now," he said, drowsily. "Did you give me something?"

He got a firm squeeze in reply.

"So…that's one squeeze for yes, two for no?"

Another firm squeeze. Daniel smiled. For the first time since his tumble down the ravine he felt tethered and safe.

"Am I still on the planet?" he asked.

Two squeezes. No.

"Am I home?" he asked, wondering just how long he'd been out of it.

Two squeezes. No.

Okay, so…not home and not on the planet. That meant they must be travelling, Daniel surmised.

"Is Sam with you?" he asked, licking his parched lips.

Two squeezes.

"Teal'c?"

Two squeezes.

Daniel frowned at that. Jack had come alone to rescue him? How? Why? He had so many questions, and all of them required more than a simple yes/no answer.

"More juice?" he finally asked, feeling the drugs pulling back towards sleep. He got a single squeeze, and after a moment's fumbling, he was sucking down more of the sweet drink.

Some time later—how much later he had no way of knowing—Daniel resurfaced. He mentally braced himself, expecting the same agonizing pain he always felt when he woke up. But this time the pain was manageable. He immediately became aware of two more things: the first was that something smelled incredibly good, and he thought he recognized the salty-broth smell of chicken noodle soup; the second thing he noticed was that he felt chilly. It was the first time he'd felt anything other than pain in a long time. It was still an oddly distant feeling—like a tiny chill through a heavy parka, but it was a start. It meant that his sense of touch might not be lost to him forever.

He'd had plenty of time to think, and he'd figured out early on that the fruit he'd been eating on the planet was the source of his sensory deficits, and also the reason why his pain was so much worse than it should have been. He tried a couple of times to stop eating the fruit, but in the end the pain was too overwhelming. And with nothing else available to eat, it was either eat the fruit or slowly die of starvation. But now that he'd been fruit-free for a while, it looked like the effects were starting to wear off.

With the prospect of possibly returning to normal one day, and knowing Jack was taking him home, Daniel smiled and stretched languorously.

Or, at least he tried to.

As he stretched his knotted muscles, he froze up with the sudden, sharp pain the movement caused, letting out a string of colourful expletives in a variety of languages as he did so.

He felt the bed dip, felt a strong hand engulf his own and give it a squeeze. Jack.

And was it his imagination, or was Jack's thumb actually stoking the back of his hand? No, of course he was imagining it, he thought ruefully. But if it wasn't his imagination… Daniel knew he should probably let Jack know he could feel what he was doing, but then he would stop, and he really didn't want him to. Best to play dumb. For now, anyways.

"Jack?" he asked, feeling the raw scratchiness of his voice, but still not hearing it. "Is that soup I smell?"

He got a nice, strong squeeze in response, and his stomach rumbled. Daniel felt Jack pat his hand, and then he was gone. Daniel found that he keenly missed the contact.

The soup went down more slowly than the juice had, mostly due to the fact that Jack was spoon-feeding him and was taking his sweet time about it. That was probably a good thing, though, because if Daniel had been left to his own devices, he would have scarfed down the hot soup and scorched his tongue and palate in the process. Also, it didn't hurt that the slow feeding ensured Jack's closeness for a while, and right now, having him close was a very good thing. After all, Jack was his only link to the world outside his own head.

When Daniel finished his soup, the bed shifted again and Jack got up. Daniel shot his hand out and grabbed hold of Jack's arm. At least it felt like an arm—solid and muscular, flexing under his fingers—and Daniel urgently gripped it in his hand.

"Don't leave," he said. Daniel felt his fingers being pried off of Jack's arm and he gave in to a moment's panic. "Jack, please!" he called out pitifully, and blindly reached out for the other man.

With an almost overwhelming sense of relief, Daniel felt his hand come into contact with Jack—his chest, by the feel of it. Daniel needed to feel more of him, and he let his fingers slide up Jack's chest towards his face. Reading the face like it was Braille, his fingertips brushed over a stubbly jaw, trailed upwards along a strong cheekbone, and then smoothed over a scarred eyebrow.

Definitely Jack.

He felt the bed dip again, this time from behind, and tried to control his shock when Jack's arm pulled him into a hug. Warm breath puffed against his ear, and Daniel didn't have to hear the words to know what Jack had whispered:

"I'm not going anywhere, Daniel."


	10. Chapter 10

* * *

Jack was feeling pretty good about his rescue of Daniel. The younger man was at death's door when they'd found him, but only two days later things were looking up.

Sure, Daniel was still living in a sensory cocoon, but at least the screaming had stopped. That had to be a good thing...right, Jack thought? They'd even managed to communicate—or rather, Daniel had managed to communicate and Jack had managed to answer him. Jack still had no way of talking to his team-mate aside from the 'yes/no' hand squeezing method they'd established. Daniel couldn't hear him, couldn't see him, couldn't feel him except through his fingertips…it tended to put a crimp in their usual friendly bantering.

Thor had explained to Jack that the fruit juice samples he'd analysed from Daniel's BDUs had contained large amounts of a toxic narcotic he couldn't identify. From what Thor could tell, the narcotic was part anaesthetic, part stimulus; blocking certain sensory input like sight, sound and touch, while stimulating the pain/pleasure receptors in the brain. And poor Daniel, who had already been in a great deal of pain when he first ate the fruit, had essentially been tortured by his own hand.

With nothing more to go on than a few samples taken from Daniel's clothes, Thor had no way of determining how long the drug's effects would last…or if the damage was permanent. The toxic nature of the drug suggested that the longer a person ingested the fruit, the greater the risk of permanent damage. All they could do now would be to wait and see if Daniel improved or not. Jack hated waiting.

A noise from the bed caught Jack's attention—Daniel was stirring at last. He'd slept for most of the last two days, and Jack was worrying himself sick, despite Thor's assurance that so much sleep was to be expected. Jack approached the bed as Daniel's sightless blue eyes blinked open.

"Jack? Are you there?" asked Daniel, his voice still little more than a scratchy whisper.

Jack picked up the other man's left hand and gave it a squeeze. It was funny how quickly he'd gotten used to holding Daniel's hand.

"Jack?" said Daniel, licking at his dry lips. "I think I have to pee."

Okay…this was new. Jack looked down at his friend. Up until now there'd been no warning about that sort of thing. Jack had had to clean up a few messes, but that was no big deal. This, however… This was going to involve holding a whole lot more than just hands, and Jack didn't think he was ready for that.

"Jack…did you hear me?"

Jack squeezed his hand. Shit. How were they going to do this?

"Thor, buddy!" Jack called over his shoulder. "I don't suppose you have a bedpan lying around here somewhere?"

"No, O'Neill," Thor answered, and Jack could swear he saw the alien's tiny lips smirking at him. "Do you require some assistance?"

Jack balked at the thought of the waist-high alien 'helping' Daniel pee. "No, I got it," he answered.

"Jack?" asked Daniel expectantly.

"Not yet, Danny. Hang on," said Jack, giving his friend's hand a double squeeze for 'no'. He could do this, he told himself, and with a deep sigh he pulled the blankets off of Daniel.

Daniel shivered at the sudden change in temperature. "Jack…? Am I naked?"

Jack froze. He'd thought Daniel couldn't feel anything. And just how long had he been able to feel things, he wondered nervously? He squeezed Daniel's hand once in answer.

"I don't suppose there's any chance you could make me…not naked?"

Jack squeezed his hand again. "We have to go for a little walk now, Danny," he said, ignoring the fact that Daniel still couldn't hear him. "Upsy-daisy." Threading his arm around Daniel's waist, he carefully hoisted him into a sitting position. So far so good.

Getting him out of bed and standing on his own two feet was much more challenging. He seemed to be able to feel the floor under his feet, and he did his best to stand, but the wound in his thigh meant he had to put all of his weight on his right leg. Jack shifted him around until he was supporting most of Daniel's weight, and together they began the slow shuffle towards the toilet facilities. Jack knew it had to be frustrating for Daniel, learning how to walk all over again, not to mention how embarrassing this had to be for him. And even though Daniel wasn't complaining, the short gasping breaths he was taking and the sheen of sweat he'd worked up were enough of a hint for Jack to know that he was hurting.

This was it, thought Jack as they stopped in front of the rounded metal toilet. In a twisted kind of way Jack was almost relieved that Daniel was in such discomfort. Not that he wanted the other man to suffer, but it was easier to think of him as a patient who needed his help, rather than as a friend (who happened to be harbouring a secret infatuation for him) whose penis he was about to have in his hand.

Okay—that thought didn't exactly help.

Jack shook his head to clear his mind and took hold of Daniel's penis. He had to aim it, which meant having to look at it…having to look at it as his fingers wrapped themselves gently around it…

"Uh…Jack? Can I go now?" Daniel asked timidly.

With his other arm busy supporting Daniel, Jack had no choice but to squeeze what was at hand—literally—in order to answer him.

Daniel let out a soft little 'uhn' sound at the unexpected gesture, and Jack gave a moan of his own, thankful for the first time that Daniel couldn't hear him. This was turning out to be a lot harder than he'd expected…and Jack moaned again at his brain's poor choice in wording.

With that business attended to and only minor damage done to their collective pride, Jack enlisted Thor's help in getting Daniel dressed. Unfortunately, Jack hadn't thought to pack anything for Daniel, which meant they'd have to share Jack's wardrobe until they got back to Earth. No big deal—they were close enough in size so that Jack's sweats and t-shirt would be comfortable on him.

The struggle was getting the t-shirt on without causing extreme pain to Daniel's broken arm and cracked ribs. Getting the damaged limb through the sleeve was out of the question, of course, but luckily the shirt was large enough to fit overtop of the arm. Underwear came next (with careful eye-avoidance on Jack's part), followed by Jack's warmest pair of sweats. Finishing the wardrobe off with a pair of white athletic socks, Jack stepped back to admire his handiwork. Okay, so Daniel wasn't about to win any fashion contests, but at least he was dressed.

The exertion had taken its toll on Daniel. He was shaking with fatigue, sweat popping out on his upper lip and forehead. He felt his way around, and with Jack's assistance he made it back to the bed and lay down again. Within seconds his eyelids were drooping with the effort of staying awake.

Jack noticed that his friend was about to pass out, and if he did, he would most likely be out for a long time. "Uh-uh—no sleeping until you've had something to eat," said Jack. He wasn't sure how to get the message across to him without the aid of something delicious-smelling to pass under his nose. There was only one other sense open to him—touch. Reaching out, he rubbed Daniel's stomach, giving it a final pat for good measure.

Daniel's brow creased in a frown for a moment, and then he suddenly got it. "Food? You want me to eat?" he asked.

Well that perked him up, Jack thought as he gave Daniel's hand an affirmative squeeze. Jack had to laugh at the eagerness in his friend's expression—the poor guy must have been starving!

Jack was about to heat up some oatmeal for Daniel when Thor approached him and placed a slender hand on his arm. Jack frowned down at him, questioningly.

"O'Neill, I have received a message from the Asgard High Command. The negotiations I was overseeing have failed, and war is imminent. I have been asked to return in the hopes of re-establishing peaceful communications."

Jack raised his eyebrows. "So? No big deal—just drop me and Danny off on Earth and high-tail it back home."

"You do not understand the urgency of the situation," said Thor with a slight inclination of his head. "I am needed immediately. Any delay could disrupt the balance of power in our galaxy and draw us into a conflict we cannot afford to join—not now, when our war with the Replicators is demanding the use of all our resources. I cannot spare the time it would take to return you to Earth."

"Okay. See? I have a little problem with that," said Jack. "In case you haven't noticed, I need to get Daniel home. I can't be joy-riding across the galaxy to watch you make nice with the neighbours."

Thor nodded patiently. "I am aware that Doctor Jackson requires urgent medical care, and I believe I have a solution that will work well for both of us."

"Okay, I'm listening," said Jack, reluctantly.

"We are approaching the nearest planet to P9T 337 that has a Stargate. I can drop you and Doctor Jackson off there and leave for my rendezvous with no delay. From there you can use the Stargate to get back to Earth in far less time than it would take for me to deliver you there myself."

It was a no-brainer as far as Jack was concerned. The sooner he got Daniel back home the better. "Sounds great! When do we get there?"

"We are there now," Thor answered, returning to his controls. As his long, delicate fingers manipulated the crystal orbs in front of him, the 'Samantha Carter' dropped out of hyperspace. Almost immediately, their ship was struck by weapon's fire.

"What the hell was that?" asked Jack, hearing the same question echoed by Daniel from his corner of the vessel.

"We received a direct hit as we were coming out of hyperspace," Thor replied calmly. He pulled up a damage report and displayed it on the lower half of the view screen. "The shot has disabled our shields. Another direct hit will likely destroy the 'Samantha Carter'."

"Who fired on us?" Jack asked.

Thor pointed to the top half of the screen where they could see two Goa'uld Ha'taks firing at each other. "I believe we were caught in the crossfire. That Ha'tak belongs to Baal; I do not recognize the smaller one."

"Great! Just great!" Jack griped.

"For the moment they are too occupied with each other to take notice of us; however, as I said, the 'Carter' cannot withstand another direct hit. I must enter hyperspace before they turn their attention towards us."

Jack thought about it for a second. "Any chance you could beam us down to the planet before you make a run for it?"

Thor nodded. "I will need to do so now, if that is what you wish."

It was Jack's choice: stay with Thor and spend the next week travelling to the Asgard's latest war zone, or take his chances down on the planet.

"Beam us down, Scotty," he said, and then quickly added: "but don't drop us off right at the Stargate—we could have company down there."

Jack quickly snatched up his P-90 and his jacket and was about to grab Daniel's boots when he suddenly found himself amongst a copse of trees, blinking away the residual light from Thor's transporter.

"Uh…Jack? What's happening? Where are we?" Daniel's voice was strained in his attempt to not freak out. Jack hurried over to where Daniel was lying on the leaf-strewn ground. Before the other man could speak again—and possibly give away their location to potential hostiles—Jack reached a hand out and covered Daniel's mouth. His other hand found Daniel's and gave it a squeeze. Taking his hand away from Daniel's mouth, Jack could see the barely contained anxiety in his friend's sightless eyes. With no other way to let him know everything was okay, Jack resorted to ruffling Daniel's hair—something he hadn't done in…well, a very long time, anyway. It seemed to do the trick—Daniel's lips quirked up in a smile and he visibly relaxed.

As much as he hated having to do it, Jack was going to have to leave Daniel for a while to scope out the area. He had to find the Stargate…had to make sure they could both get to it without being shredded by enemy fire.

Taking Daniel's left hand, Jack guided it to his own chest, then up to his eyes and then made circling gestures with it.

"You're going to take a look around?" asked Daniel.

Jack squeezed once. If nothing else, this experience was doing wonders for his charade skills. He had to practically break Daniel's fingers to make him let go of his arm. The man was terrified of being left alone, sightless and unhearing, with no idea where he was or what was going on. Go figure.

Jack didn't much like the idea of leaving Daniel either, but in his current state, he wasn't fit to travel, let alone run for cover if necessary. It would be safer to leave him here, where he would make less of a target.

After doing a quick survey of the immediate area, Jack determined that there was no indication of Jaffa activity. Not that that meant a lot, but it was the best Jack could do, for now. Glancing back at Daniel to make sure he was alright, Jack headed further into the forest, marking his path as he went.

He knew Thor wouldn't have dropped them off too far from the 'gate, so if his current path didn't yield results within a mile's walk, he would head back to Daniel and try a different path.

He was almost at the one-mile mark when he heard voices a short ways away. Crouching low, Jack crept closer to the source of the conversation. From his vantage point nestled in a thick patch of bushes, his fears were confirmed. Ahead of him on a well-beaten dirt path, stood two Jaffa deep in conversation as their troop passed by. Jack couldn't make out what they were saying, but he could tell from their forehead markings that they weren't Baal's Jaffa. With any luck, they were retreating to the Stargate, which would save Jack a whole lot of searching.

Of course, Jack was never that lucky.

As the last two Jaffa passed by, he saw that they were dragging an unconscious Daniel between them; the young man's stocking feet ploughing furrows into the soft dirt path behind him.

Things just keep getting better and better, Jack thought wryly, and silently set out to follow them.


	11. Chapter 11

* * *

Daniel could feel enough to know he was outside, when only moments before he had been inside—apparently on board a ship. And if he'd been beamed onto a planet, then it had most likely been an Asgard ship, which would only make sense. Who else would be able to travel so far so quickly?

But why had they beamed him onto a planet? Was this Earth? Was he home? And where was Jack?

Fighting back his fear, he called out: "Uh…Jack? What's happening? Where are we?"

A moment later he felt a hand clamp over his mouth, and the only thing that prevented him from biting it in sheer panic was the simultaneous squeezing of his hand. It was Jack. But why did he want him to be quiet? Where the hell were they? Daniel had never felt so frustrated and helpless in his entire life.

And then he felt Jack's hand ruffling through his hair and he knew that he'd be okay. Jack would make sure of that. He tried to recall the last time Jack had ruffled his hair like that and drew a complete blank. Had it really been that long, he wondered? Or had he simply never realized it mattered enough to keep track?

He was just starting to relax when Jack started manipulating his hand, trying to tell him something. With fresh-burgeoning fear, Daniel figured out what Jack was trying to say.

"You're going to have a look around?" he asked, dreading the answer. Sure enough, Jack confirmed it with a squeeze—he was leaving. Daniel grabbed hold of him with his good hand and refused to let go. He wasn't proud of it—he was scared in a way he hadn't been since he was five and the monsters still lived under his bed—and he only managed to redeem himself by not crying out when Jack pried his arm free of his grasp.

Daniel knew he should feel safe—Jack wouldn't leave him if he thought he'd be in any danger. There was no reason to be nervous…just because the ship they'd been on had clearly come under attack and they were now alone on a strange planet, thousands of light-years from Earth, with an unknown enemy hunting them down…

Yep. No need to worry at all, he thought grimly.

Now truly alone again, Daniel used every sense he had to take in his surroundings. From the feel and smell of it, he knew he was in a forest, which meant he was probably well hidden by trees. If he just stayed quiet and lay still, he should be fine. Still, he'd have felt a hell of a lot better if he could at least _hear_ what was going on around him. On the plus side, however, Daniel could honestly say he wasn't the least bit sleepy anymore, and food was now the last thing on his mind.

He'd only been alone for about ten minutes when Daniel felt something bump against him. His entire body went rigid—he didn't say anything, in case it wasn't Jack. But then, if it _was_ Jack, why hadn't he let him know he was there? He felt another bump, closer to his head this time, and then warm, rancid breath huffed across his face.

It had to be an animal of some kind, and judging by the breath, it was definitely a carnivore. Daniel had no intention of sticking around to find out if he was its next meal. With his body pumped full of adrenalin and endorphins, Daniel managed to get to his feet. He stumbled forward, his good arm stretched out in front of him, and he was able to make his way to a nearby tree before his unseen assailant was on him.

He was surprised when, instead of claws, fur and teeth, he found himself up against muscle, armour and metal. Not an animal, then. But not Jack, either. From the size and strength of the man pinning him against the tree, he was willing to bet it was a Jaffa.

Now would be a good time to call out to Jack, he thought belatedly. As he opened his mouth to yell, a meaty fist slammed into the side of his head and he dropped to the ground, unconscious.

* * *

Jack really didn't like the way Daniel's head lolled back and forth, nor did he like the fact that he'd been stripped of his shirt and was being roughly suspended between the two Jaffa by his armpits. Daniel's splinted arm hung awkwardly out to the side, and Jack knew he'd be in sheer agony when he woke up.

Following at a safe distance, Jack considered his odds. There were twelve Jaffa in the entourage, and all Jack had was his P-90—with only one clip. Still, despite the risk, he had no other option. At least Jack had the element of surprise working for him, and if he timed it right and took out the two Jaffa holding Daniel first, he might be able to take the rest of them out without Daniel getting caught in the cross-fire.

Waiting for the best possible moment, Jack continued to follow close behind, but when they rounded the next bend in the path, the woods thinned out and a valley opened up before them. Jack stopped in his tracks—in the clearing below, a dozen more troops had set up camp around the Stargate. Jack ground his teeth as his hopes of an easy rescue packed their bags and got on the first bus out of town.

Holding his position at the edge of the tree cover, Jack watched as Daniel's entourage entered the camp and dragged his colleague into the large tent in the middle of the encampment. Judging by the size and location of the tent, Jack would bet his left nut that whatever Goa'uld these Jaffa served was resting its snaky ass inside. What he wouldn't give to have the rest of his team with him…and maybe a battalion of Marines at his disposal for good measure. There was absolutely no way he could get to Daniel in broad daylight without being detected. And with Daniel in the condition he was in, unable to respond to interrogation, Jack feared the Goa'uld would quickly lose patience with him and have him killed.

And that was _not_ going to happen on Jack's watch.

He would have to wait until dusk before attempting anything, but with any luck Daniel would remain unconscious for a while, and that would buy him some time. For one suicidal moment Jack considered marching right in there and offering himself up for trade. After all, he figured he'd make a better prisoner than his deaf and blind team-mate. Of course Jack didn't fool himself for a minute that the Goa'uld would simply set Daniel go free. If he went in there now, it would only serve to get them both killed, and he knew it.

From his vantage point, Jack counted heads and monitored Jaffa movement. There were at least a hundred and fifty Jaffa that he could see, and undoubtedly more stashed away inside the tents. The sun was just starting its descent, and as Jack was about to make his way down to the encampment, the flap of the big tent opened. Two Jaffa exited with Daniel dangling carelessly between them. Daniel hung limply in their grasp, and from where Jack was watching he couldn't tell if he was dead or simply unconscious. Jack felt something deep inside him twist up into knots at the thought. He did _not_ fly all the way across the galaxy to save Daniel only to lose him to the Goa'uld two days later. That was simply unacceptable.

With a resolute expression on his face, Jack watched as they dragged Daniel to the outskirts of the compound. He held his breath—if they took him outside the camp, it meant he was dead and they were disposing of him body, but if they didn't… Jack released a sigh of relief when the two Jaffa stopped at the outermost tent and tossed Daniel inside. They shut the flap and took up positions on either side of the entrance.

Jack couldn't have asked for a better turn of events. If he timed it just right, he could get in, dispatch of the two guards and get Daniel out of there without raising the alarm. With twilight casting long, inky-black shadows over the camp, Jack slowly crept his way closer to Daniel's tent. There was little cover between the tree line and the tent, but he found that if he stayed low and kept to the shadows, his progress remained undetected. With only a few yards left to go, Jack heard someone approach. He hunkered down into the tall grass and watched. It was the Jaffa he'd seen chatting earlier on the path, the gold emblem on his forehead marking him as the first prime of…whoever. He arrived at Daniel's tent and spoke tersely to the two Jaffa keeping guard before brusquely pushing his way past them to get inside.

It was now or never.

* * *

Damn!

That was the first coherent thought that whisked through Daniel Jackson's mind as he once again awoke to a dark, silent world of hurt. The second thought was that being kicked in the head _really_ wasn't helping any.

He pulled his left arm up to protect his head and was absurdly grateful when the kicking stopped—it gave him a chance to take stock of his situation. It was pretty grim, he knew that much.

The last thing he remembered was the foul-breathed Jaffa knocking him out in the forest. He was no longer in the woods, and considering he was now cold, shirtless and his arms felt like they'd been ripped from their sockets, he guessed he'd been captured and dragged off somewhere. The floor was uneven and felt like canvas—a tent of some kind…which meant he was probably still on the planet. At least he hadn't been ringed up to a Goa'uld ship, he thought, because if he _was _still on the planet, he had a much better chance of escaping.

Daniel almost started laughing. Better chance? He couldn't think of a worse possible scenario if he tried—blind, deaf and injured, separated from Jack and in the hands of the Goa'uld. Nope—didn't get much worse than that…unless they'd captured Jack, too. Daniel cursed his overactive mind for thinking of the one thing that could possibly make the situation worse.

His self-pitying came to an abrupt halt when bruising hands grabbed him, meaty fingers crushing into his injured arm as he was yanked into a kneeling position. Daniel felt a yell rip from his throat and prickling sweat popped out on his forehead and upper lip.

Now comes the fun part, Daniel thought darkly. In his mind's eye he could picture it all clearly: he could see himself kneeling on the floor of the tent, partly supported between two enormous Jaffa, as some ego-bloated popinjay paced dramatically in front of him, waiting for him to bow down to his supreme godliness. Well, thought Daniel, he'd be waiting until Ne'tu froze over, because there was no way Daniel would, or could, give him what he wanted.

As his mind dredged up memories of the countless times he and SG-1 had been forced onto their knees before a Goa'uld, his fear abated. He'd done this before—he knew exactly what to expect. Hell, he knew his part so well he could do this in his sleep.

The Jaffa on his right shook him roughly, probably as a cue for him to answer a question he hadn't been able to hear. A few seconds passed, after which more vigorous shaking was applied. A few more seconds passed with no response from Daniel, and that, apparently, had been the last straw.

A jolt of white-hot energy lanced through him, setting fire to his entire nervous system. For a brief moment, with the Goa'uld pain-stick digging into his back, Daniel saw a bright light and realized that it was coming from within him. As soon as it stopped the darkness enveloped him again and he collapsed into the grasp of the Jaffa guards.

"It won't do you any good, you know!" he rasped out. Any further protest was cut short by a longer prod with the pain-stick. This time the Jaffa let him fall to the ground as the remnants of the jolt shuddered through his body.

Daniel couldn't help it—he laughed.

Could his captors possibly be so stupid as to not realize he couldn't answer them? Or did they think he was just being belligerent? That thought made him laugh even harder. Not that there was anything even remotely funny about the situation—he'd simply had enough. It was too much for him to deal with rationally.

In the back of his mind he realized that laughing at a Goa'uld holding a pain-stick was not a particularly wise thing to do. As bright white pain rocked through him, Daniel surrendered himself to it. His only solace was that if the Goa'uld were still so interested in him, they probably hadn't found Jack yet, and with that last thought, he succumbed to the void with a smile on his face.

* * *

When Daniel came to a second time, he groaned. He'd truly believed that last jolt from the pain-stick had done him in for good, and he really wasn't looking forward to a repeat performance. As he lay there contemplating his fate, he felt a hand brush through his hair. Instinctively, he jerked away from the touch, but the hand was persistent, raking through his hair, ruffling it, and Daniel dared to hope…

"Jack?"

He should have known it was too good to be true. The hand suddenly gripped tight, and he was yanked to his knees by the roots of his hair. He could smell the man's rancid breath and knew it was the Jaffa who'd captured him in the forest. It would appear the Goa'uld had tired of him and given him to his Jaffa as a present. Flattering as that may be, Daniel had no intention of becoming this Jaffa's plaything.

He felt the man release his hair, gripping his jaw instead, forcing his mouth open. Daniel took his chance. With as much strength as he could muster, Daniel twisted out of the Jaffa's grip and bit down as hard as he could on the man's hand. The warm, copper tang of blood flooded his mouth, accompanied by a distant, muffled cry. Daniel released the Jaffa from between his teeth and slumped to the ground. As he sat there spitting out blood, he waited for the blow that would end his life.

* * *

Taking down the two Jaffa at the tent's entrance would have been a lot easier if Jack hadn't needed to be silent about it. He had to waste precious minutes being stealthy, and as the second of the two Jaffa dropped to the ground in a lifeless heap, Jack worried that he may have taken too long. Instinctively, he grabbed one of the dead Jaffa's zat guns and snuck into the tent.

Daniel was kneeling on the ground facing towards the entrance, with the first prime standing in front of him. Their proximity was a little too…intimate…in Jack's opinion, and his gut twisted at the thought of what the Jaffa was about to do to Daniel.

The Jaffa's bellow of pain caught Jack by surprise and spurred him into action. With the silence decidedly broken, Jack saw no reason to keep quiet, and he charged the man. One shot from his zat had the Jaffa twitching on his back, and his exposed state confirmed Jack's suspicions. A wave of pure hatred overwhelmed him, and he shot the bastard twice more. The body disintegrated in front of his eyes, and Jack found himself wishing the Jaffa was still there so he could shoot him a few more times. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so angry.

With the immediate threat taken care of, Jack turned his attention to Daniel. The man looked like he'd been to hell and back; dark circles had formed under his eyes, and his face was beyond pale. In a way that only Daniel could achieve, he managed to look both defeated and defiant all at once, spitting out blood as he waited, wild-eyed, for the Jaffa to retaliate. It filled Jack with a strange sense of pride, to know that Daniel was willing to put up a fight like that.

Jack approached his friend carefully. As much as he wanted to get Daniel the hell out of there before an army of Jaffa descended on them, he needed Daniel to come quietly. That meant he somehow had to let Daniel know that it was him and not the Jaffa touching him. Jack lifted his hand to ruffle Daniel's hair, but as soon as his fingers reached their goal, Daniel jerked away and coiled himself into a ball, his breathing rapid and shaking like he was ready to pounce.

"It's me, Danny," Jack said quietly and knelt beside him. "Don't panic. It's just me." He felt like he was trying to pet an injured lion. Taking hold of Daniel's left hand, he gave it one strong squeeze. He saw the wary hope in his friend's eyes and let Daniel pull his hand up to his face. As Daniel sniffed at him, Jack gave in to a sudden impulse and cupped the other man's cheek with the palm of his hand.

"Jack?" Daniel asked in a hoarse croak. Jack gave his hand another squeeze and noticed the glint of relieved tears in Daniel's eyes.

"Yep," Jack answered with another fond pat to the other man's cheek. "Look—I love a sappy reunion as much as the next guy, but we really gotta get out of here."

Daniel was more than willing to let Jack help him to his feet, and the two of them hobbled their way out of the tent. The two dead Jaffa lay undisturbed where Jack had left them, and there was no indication that their little fracas had been noticed. It seemed strange to Jack that no one had heard anything, but then he noticed that the Jaffa had amassed at the centre of the camp. There was an organized chaos about the gathering, and Jack guessed that they were having a bit of a pep rally before going into battle against Baal. It was a lucky break for them, and one that Jack felt was well-deserved.

As Jack half-carried his injured team-member into the night-shrouded forest, his mind flashed back to the image of Daniel kneeling before the Jaffa in the tent. It was a damned brave thing he'd done, biting him that way, but it was also verging on the suicidal. A part of Jack was still brimming over with pride—Daniel was starting to rival him in the snake-baiting arena—but another part of him wanted to throttle the man for putting his life at risk like that. The thought of losing Daniel again scared him far more than he'd ever thought it could.

"Damn it, Daniel!" he groused loudly. "Don't ever scare me like that again—do you hear me?" If Jack had been looking, he would have seen the smile that lit up Daniel's face in response.


	12. Chapter 12

* * *

It had been an exhausting trek through the woods, with Daniel an almost dead weight plastered to his side. They needed a safe place to hide—somewhere close enough to the Stargate to keep an eye on the situation, but out of reach of the Jaffa patrols. It took almost an hour under the cover of darkness to find a vantage point high enough to serve as a lookout which also had enough cover to keep them well-hidden.

By the time Jack came to a stop, Daniel was white as a sheet and shaking from head to foot just with the effort of trying to stay upright. He knew he'd pushed the injured man more than was strictly safe, health-wise, but they couldn't risk being recaptured by the Goa'uld. After he lay Daniel down on the ground, Jack took his place beside him and gathered the shivering man into his arms.

"I won't leave you again," he whispered. "That's a promise." He watched Daniel's eyes flutter shut and held him close as his laboured breathing evened out into a slow, rhythmic pattern. Without even thinking, Jack stroked his fingers through the other man's hair, simply reassuring himself that he was finally safe. But when it dawned on him what he was doing, Jack felt a jolt of shock. When had it become okay to touch Daniel like this? Was it that stupid dream, he wondered? Or had he always wanted to touch Daniel like this?

Jack pulled his hand away as if it had been scalded. He was wandering into very dangerous territory here, and he was in serious danger of slipping up. There were places in his psyche he tried not to acknowledge—like the part of him that could pull a trigger and put a hole in another man's head…or the part of him that Daniel had somehow managed to stir up.

He needed some distance—needed some time to think without the very physical reminder of how his friend's presence was affecting him. Jack inched away from Daniel and lay on his back, staring up at the stars and the swaying treetops overhead, doing everything in his power to not dwell on the strange new feelings that kept nagging at him for attention.

On the ground next to him Daniel started shivering again in his sleep. Jack gave himself a good, hard mental flogging for behaving like an idiot—Daniel had no shirt, no shoes, and enough injuries to make even the slightest shiver painful. What he needed was heat and comfort, and Jack had no right to deny him of either, just because he was 'freaking out'.

Screw it, he decided—a little proximity for the sake of survival was nothing to be ashamed of. It was hardly the first time he'd had to huddle up against a team member, and it probably wouldn't be the last. As Jack drew Daniel into his arms again, he had to firmly stomp on the part of his psyche that was reminding him that this was different, and he damn-well knew it.

* * *

The next morning Daniel awoke to the feel of sunshine on his face and a strong arm around his waist. His entire body felt like it had been run over by a steamroller, he was hot, his head was throbbing, everything ached—even his skin…and yet he hadn't been this happy in a long time. Jack was holding him close, and although he knew it had nothing to do with reciprocated feelings and everything to do with keeping him warm, it at least proved that Jack still cared about his well-being. All things considered, that was saying a lot.

He hadn't really thought much about the dream incident and what it might do to his relationship with Jack. But to be fair, he'd had other things on his mind. The fact that Jack wasn't disgusted by him—was even willing to hold him when he needed it—was more than he'd dared to hope for.

"Well it's about time you opened those pretty blue eyes of yours—my arm fell asleep hours ago," said Jack, giving Daniel's hair a good ruffling.

Daniel's mouth fell open—he'd heard Jack! Not a trick of his imagination, not wishful thinking—Jack had spoken, and he'd heard it! Sure, he had to strain his ears to make out what he was saying, but still… And then it hit him what Jack had just said.

"Pretty blue eyes, Jack?" said Daniel, completely unable to disguise his smirk.

"You heard that?" Jack asked. "You heard that!" The question became an exclamation as Jack realized what that meant—Daniel had his hearing back!

Daniel couldn't see Jack's grin, but he knew it was there. He grinned back. "Yeah, I heard that. Sounds like you're talking through a tinny old radio, but I can hear you."

"Sweet," Jack muttered, and then raised his voice so Daniel could hear him; "I said, 'Sweet'." He paused a moment before adding: "Think you can get off my arm now? I wasn't kidding when I said it fell asleep hours ago."

Daniel shifted his weight, grunting as the movement awakened all the dormant pains in his body. Soon he was deprived of the warmth of Jack's body heat and he tried not to let his disappointment show—it had felt nice, despite how hot he was.

"So…now that I can hear you, is there any chance you could tell me what the hell's going on?" asked Daniel.

"Short version? Thor and I rescued you from Planet Suicide Mission, Thor got called away on business, we got caught in the middle of a Goa'uld pissing contest, you got yourself captured and I saved your ass again."

"Got myself captured?" Daniel said incredulously.

"Yeah, well…" Jack cleared his throat, "that part might have been partly my fault."

Daniel shook his head with a chuckle. He knew Jack well enough to hear the very real guilt in his voice, even with the volume turned down low. "I'll forgive you if you promise never to run off like that again."

"You got yourself a deal," Jack agreed readily, giving Daniel's shoulder a friendly squeeze.

"Okay—ow!" said Daniel. "Bad shoulder, Jack—remember?"

"Right. Sorry," Jack replied, hastily removing his hand from Daniel's injured appendage.

"So…" said Daniel, sensing the tension building between them. It had almost been easier when they couldn't talk to each other. At least them there was no pressure to talk about…things.

"Soooo…" Jack replied, equally lost for words.

"I'm starving. Don't suppose there's a stack of waffles lying around anywhere nearby?" asked Daniel, his stomach punctuating the question with an audible grumble.

"Uh…that would be 'no'," answered Jack. He'd been so concerned about getting away from the Goa'uld that he hadn't considered the food and water situation. Daniel had been starving up on Thor's vessel, and after all the commotion they'd been through, it was a miracle he had enough energy left to even ask for food.

"I never thought I'd find myself wishing I was still staked to the ground being pelted by fruit," said Daniel dryly.

"Don't talk like that, Danny," said Jack, resting his hand lightly on the other man's good shoulder. "I _will_ get us home. Soon. And then you and I are gonna feast on the thickest, juiciest steaks I can get my hands on."

Daniel moaned as he pictured the promised meal, his mouth watering in anticipation. "Not helping, Jack!" he said with a growl in his voice.

"Sorry," said Jack. "Just hang in there." Jack ignored Daniel's mumbled sarcastic reply and climbed the short incline of their vantage point to check on the Jaffa activity below. It looked like they were preparing to leave, which meant that Baal had most likely whooped their asses and ordered them off the planet.

That would explain why Baal's rival hadn't raised the alarm when he found that his prisoner had escaped. He obviously had more pressing matters to attend to than chasing after Daniel.

The downside was that there was a good chance Baal would show up to stake his claim on the planet as soon as the squatters had been evicted. That left a very narrow window of opportunity in which he and Daniel could make use of the Stargate. The timing had to be just right.

As he fished through his BDU jacket's pocket for his field binoculars, Jack came across a power bar. He couldn't remember putting it in there, so it had to be pretty damn old, but it was better than nothing.

"Danny, heads up!" he called out, and tossed the power bar to his blind companion without even thinking. To his complete astonishment, Daniel caught the food one-handed, mid-air. "Nice catch."

"Thanks," Daniel muttered in reply, his attention fixed on the plastic wrapped item in his hand. "Uh…what is it?"

"Power bar."

"I thought you hated those."

"Do. Found one in my BDUs."

Daniel cocked his head. "Um…which pocket?" he asked.

"It was hiding under my field binoculars. Why?" asked Jack.

"No reason," Daniel answered and fumbled with the packaging. He'd put that power bar there months ago when Jack had let him borrow his jacket—Daniel always felt the cold more than Jack, and his friend had been in a generous mood that day. Right now he didn't care how old it was—food was food. He tore into it with gusto and had to remind himself to chew. And then he started thinking about the jacket, wondering why Jack hadn't just given it to him to wear last night—surely that would have been preferable to holding him all night to keep him warm? That was something else he'd have to chew on.

Jack watched Daniel eat, wondering how he was able to cope with so much so calmly. It always amazed him that Daniel seemed to be able to bounce back from anything life threw at him—even the occasional death! And through it all he never lost hope…even when the situation seemed hopeless. The man was truly something special…

Damn it! Jack shook his head to steer his thoughts away from the path they were taking. Soon they would be home and they could put all of this behind them, but until then he had to stay focused. He pried his eyes away from Daniel and aimed his binoculars at the 'gate below. He'd only looked away for a couple of minutes, but in that time a lot had happened in the Jaffa camp. As he watched, some of Baal's Jaffa ringed down to the planet to join in the ground battle that had already begun. The faint sound of blast-weapon fire filtered up to him and Jack groaned.

"Jack? What is it?" asked Daniel, with apprehension in his voice.

"Baal."

"Baal?"

"Baal's troops, to be exact," Jack answered.

"What's Baal doing out here?"

"My guess is he's sent his minions to squeeze out the local reigning Goa'uld so he can claim this planet for himself."

Daniel nodded his head slowly. "Right. Or…maybe—and this is a big maybe—he's claiming this planet for Anubis."

"How do you figure?" asked Jack, humouring him. It made Jack smile to hear Daniel in full lecture mode again.

"This is how I see it…no pun intended, of course," Daniel said wryly.

"Of course," Jack agreed.

"I went and destroyed Anubis' brain-bomb device, taking out the Stargate and a sizeable chunk of the planet in the process. It only makes sense that he'd be looking for another, out-of-the-way planet to start over again, and my guess is this planet we're on is the nearest one to the original that has an active Stargate. Am I right?"

"Got it in one," said Jack, shaking his head in amazement once more. Daniel should be out for the count, yet here he was, getting back into the ring for one more round.

"Okay. So Baal's not stupid—he may be outwardly opposed to Anubis, but he knows which way the wind is blowing, and you can bet he intends to ride out the storm in Anubis' wake. So when an opportunity arose for Baal to align himself with him, he takes it—it's basic self-preservation, plain and simple."

"Sounds…reasonable," Jack agreed. "Problem is, now we have to deal with Baal's Jaffa, and I get the feeling they're in a whole different league than the local variety."

"Have they got control of the Stargate?" asked Daniel.

"Oh yeah—they're settling in around it, planting gardens, that sort of thing…"

"So…we wait?" asked Daniel uncertainly.

Something about his tone of voice made Jack turn and look at him. He did _not_ look like a happy camper. "We'll stay put as long as we have to—there's no way we're getting through that 'gate until the crowd down there thins. A lot."

"Sorry," Daniel mumbled quietly—so quietly that Jack almost missed it.

Jack knew self-pity when he heard it, and he intended to put a stop to that kind of thinking right now. Leaving his post, Jack returned to Daniel's side and placed a reassuring hand on his friend's good shoulder. He noted that his other shoulder wasn't looking so good; the bandaging had come off and the wound was an angry red—probably infected.

"Danny, you've got nothing to be sorry about," said Jack.

Daniel gave a dark, dismissive chuckle. "Don't I? If I hadn't gone through the Stargate…"

"Then I would be dead and Anubis would be mailing out bomb-o-grams all over the galaxy by now," Jack finished for him. "You did the right thing."

Daniel didn't say anything at first, but the deep furrowing of his brow told Jack that he hadn't let the subject go. "You'll never make it to the 'gate with me holding you back. You should go—alone—as soon as you get the chance."

"Are you nuts?" Jack barked back. "I'm not going anywhere without you, especially after what happened last time I left you alone, so just can it!"

"No. Just hear me out, Jack," Daniel argued, keeping his voice controlled and reasonable. "You can make it back to the SGC and bring help. I…I don't think I'm strong enough to make it back to the 'gate under my own power, Jack. To be honest, I'm not feeling so hot," he said quietly, a nervous half-smile pulling at his lips.

Jack felt an invisible hand grip his heart and squeeze. If Daniel was admitting that he wasn't 'fine', then he had to be pretty damned bad. "I don't care if I have to piggy-back you the whole way—I'm not leaving you behind. Is that clear?"

Daniel's jaw muscles bunched as he forced himself to hold his tongue and nod. He wasn't going to be able to change Jack's mind—that much was clear—and if he told him that his real fear was that he thought he might not survive long enough for the 'crowd to thin', he knew Jack would only go and do some crazy hero stunt thing and try to fight their way through the Jaffa. There was no sense in getting them both killed, so he kept his mouth shut.

"Alrighty, then, it's settled," said Jack with finality. Daniel just sighed…and shivered. "You cold?" asked Jack.

"I'm boiling," Daniel said through chattering teeth.

Jack frowned. The day was overcast and cool, and Daniel was shirtless—if anything, he should be cold. Jack placed the back of his hand against Daniel's forehead. Heat radiated from his dry skin.

"Jack…?"

"I think you're fighting off an infection," said Jack, and he shrugged off his jacket, draping it over Daniel.

"No—hot," Daniel grumbled and pushed the jacket off.

"You have a fever—aren't you supposed to bundle up when you have a fever?"

"No…I'm pretty sure that's for a cold, Jack. You bundle up when you have a cold."

"Oh," Jack muttered. "What do you do for a fever, then?"

"A fist full of Tylenol would be nice," said Daniel, pinching the bridge of his nose to fend off the brunt of his headache.

"Assume we don't have those."

"Then all we can do is wait and hope the fever breaks," Daniel answered.

"And if it doesn't?" asked Jack.

Daniel pursed his lips and said nothing, which only served to confirm Jack's fears—the situation had just gone from bad to worse. Much worse.

The silence stretched on, and Jack crawled back to his lookout spot to let Daniel get some much needed rest. Down below, the skirmish was raging on, but Baal's troops kept ringing down from the Ha'tak in orbit, and the tide would soon turn against the weaker, as yet unidentified Goa'uld. A short time later Jack heard a soft, dry cough coming from behind him.

"Jack?" Daniel said softly.

"Yeah, Daniel?" Jack asked, his eyes still scoping out the battle below.

"Can I… Do you think you could…"

"Could what?" Jack asked, finally turning to face the other man.

"Never mind."

"Now come on," said Jack. "You can't just leave me hanging like that."

"It's nothing," Daniel repeated. There was a long pause, and Jack was starting to think Daniel had forgotten he'd said anything in the first place, when Daniel quietly spoke again, his voice scarcely above a whisper. "It's just…last night…I kind of… When…when you…"

"Oh, for cryin' out loud, Daniel—spit it out already!"

"Would you hold me again?" Daniel blurted out loudly, a hint of colour returning to his face.

"Of course I would!" Jack barked back at him, just as loudly.

"Good!"

"Fine!"

Daniel's face cracked into a smile at the absurdity of the argument, and Jack huffed out a laugh in return.

"Looks like we're gonna be stuck here for a while anyways," Jack said. He gathered up his jacket and arranged it at the base of the closest tree, making a nice, lumbar pillow out of it. "Come on, then," he said, carefully guiding Daniel until he was neatly propped up against Jack's chest, with Jack leaning against the tree for support. He could feel the heat coming off of Daniel in waves, and it was unsettling. "God, Daniel—you're burning up!"

"Sorry."

"Now what did I tell you about saying 'sorry'?"

"Sorry, didn't mean to apologize," said Daniel with a lopsided smile.

"You're hopeless," said Jack.

"You're bossy."

"You're sick—I'm allowed to be bossy."

"You know, you talk a lot for a pillow," Daniel countered. "Don't get me wrong, you're way more comfortable than the ground."

"Glad to be of service," said Jack, resting his chin on top of Daniel's head. They stayed that way for a long, silent moment, and then Daniel let himself really relax against Jack, his head cradled comfortably in the nook between Jack's shoulder and chin.

"Jack?"

"Mmm?"

"If I don't make it…"

"Don't you dare talk like that!" Jack warned.

Daniel ignored him and pressed on. "If I don't make it, there's something I want you to know."

Jack held his breath—so this was it, then? His friend was going to bare his soul in some sort of deathbed confession? Jack squirmed; he wasn't sure he was ready to hear what Daniel had to say, especially since he had a pretty good idea what it was.

Daniel could feel Jack tense up behind him and changed his mind—it didn't seem fair to burden Jack with his feelings. There was no point in it anyway. Even if Jack felt the same way—which he obviously didn't—it was too late to do anything about it now. "I'm the one who broke your Playstation. It wasn't Teal'c."

Jack let out his breath with a surprised "Oh", the tension draining from him.

Daniel chuckled. "What? Did you think I was going to tell you that I've been lusting after you all these years? It was just a dream, Jack."

"'Course it was," Jack answered nonchalantly. "Now get some sleep," he ordered. As Daniel nestled against him, trying to get more comfortable, Jack found he was actually disappointed. All this time he'd been dreading having 'the talk', but now that the pressure was off, he felt oddly bereft. It didn't seem right that Daniel should be able to dismiss the whole incident so easily when it had completely turned Jack's world upside-down. He was about to pick an argument about it when he realised that Daniel had fallen asleep. The wind promptly left his sails as he peered down at the slack, peacefully sleeping features of his best friend.

Best friend—nothing more. He'd been foolish to think otherwise.


	13. Chapter 13

* * *

The sun, which had only managed to pierce through the thick cloud cover once all day, was finally admitting defeat and surrendering to the heavy cloak of nightfall. Daniel, likewise, had only surfaced once all day, as he battled his fever and slept. And now he slept restlessly, thrashing and twisting in Jack's arms as the worst of the fever ravaged through his system.

With the exception of one or two short washroom breaks, Jack had served as Daniel's pillow most of the day. Jack's ass had gone numb ages ago, and he used Daniel's restless shifting to do some shifting of his own. The fever had gotten worse, and Jack didn't need a thermometer to know his friend was well into the danger-zone. He felt so damned useless—there was a single thing he could do to help Daniel fight this battle. He'd rather take on a whole army of Jaffa than have to sit by and watch him suffer like this.

Smoothing the hair off Daniel's forehead, Jack placed a soft kiss on the other man's temple. Daniel's thrashing calmed in response, so Jack did it again—no big deal, just a motherly kiss to the side of his head. The fact that his lips lingered longer this time meant nothing. Really.

Daniel stilled in his arms for a moment, and then his whole body started shaking, his back arching as he let out a pitiful whimper. With one last heave he called out, "Jack!" and slumped bonelessly against Jack's chest.

Jack's heart plummeted—Daniel was too still, his breathing too shallow. Fearing the worst, Jack gently shook Daniel by the shoulder, jostling him until one droopy-lidded eye rolled open and tried to focus.

"Danny? You awake?" asked Jack.

"Bad dream," Daniel murmured, his tongue venturing out to wet his lips.

"I could tell. Care to talk about it?" said Jack, endeavouring to keep his friend awake and lucid.

Daniel's eyelid gave up and slid shut again. He once again licked his parched lips and cleared his throat. "It was a rerun—I think you've seen it."

Jack's entire body stiffened. He'd had _that_ dream—while Jack was kissing his temple, no less. Oddly, the thought didn't make him want to run for the hills. If anything, it was making him want to do other things…other very inappropriate things, which he resolutely refused to think about.

"It was just a dream," Jack cooed in Daniel's ear. "Go back to sleep; things will be better in the morning, I promise." Jack was amazed at the conviction in his own voice. He believed it, he realised—things had to get better; they certainly couldn't get much worse, he thought, and cringed, hoping he hadn't just tempted fate.

Daniel quickly lapsed into a restless slumber, leaving Jack alone with his equally restless thoughts. Too much thinking had always gotten him in trouble, and judging by the way his thoughts seemed to stray when it came to Daniel, this would be no exception.

* * *

Daniel emerged from sleep like a bear coming out of hibernation. He was cold, hungry, and grumpy; his bed felt way too lumpy, and his eyes hurt from the early-morning glare of the sun. Shielding his eyes from the blinding light, Daniel prodded his bed, trying to get more comfortable, only to have his bed grunt back at him in pain.

Funny, he thought; beds don't usually complain. Daniel prodded again, more gently this time, and his bed chuckled.

"Stop it! I'm ticklish," said his bed.

"Jack?" asked Daniel in surprise. "What're you doing back there?"

"Holding you up and getting poked to death," Jack groused. "How're you feeling?"

Daniel heard the concern, despite the gruffness and quashed the usual 'I'm fine' that sprang to his lips out of long habit. After everything Jack had been through to rescue him—twice—he deserved an honest answer.

"Well…I'm freezing, my arm feels like Teal'c took a meat tenderiser to it, my ribs feel like shards of glass cutting me every time I breathe in, and I'm so hungry I could eat a raw symbiote. But on the positive side, my fever's going away and I think I might be starting to get my eyesight back."

"That's the spirit! There's the Jackson optimism we all know and love!" Jack said cheerfully and wheezed as he shifted under Daniel's weight.

"Are you… Jeez, Jack, how long have you been sitting there like that? Do you want me to get off?"

"Yeah…getting off would be really good right about now," said Jack. It took a second for him to realise what he'd said, and he quickly sputtered, "Of course, I mean that in the totally non-perverted way."

"Of course," Daniel agreed with a sly smile. If he didn't know any better…

With a grunt, Daniel sat up and shifted over so Jack could get up. The sudden loss of body heat against his back made him start shivering.

"Here, take my jacket," Jack offered, yanking it out from behind him where it had been serving as a cushion. Daniel had to grope around to find it, but when he did, he made quick work of wrapping the still-warm jacket around his shoulders, trapping in the heat.

"So…how much can you see, exactly?" Jack asked.

Daniel blinked several times, squinted, and then blinked again. "Nothing, actually," he finally admitted. "But it's a big, bright nothing now; instead of a pitch black nothing."

"Well, I suppose it's a start," Jack replied with a shrug. Getting up off the ground after being Daniel's pillow all night was a slow and painful exercise. The pins and needles started in his feet, spread upward to his stiff knees, then climbed all the way up to his numb ass. Grouching about it seemed petty, though, after hearing the list of complaints Daniel had shared with him, so Jack sucked it up and said nothing.

Jack crept towards their vantage point to check out the 'gate situation. The tents were flattened and well trampled into the dirt, and only two Jaffa were left guarding the 'gate. It looked like things had settled down enough for them to make their move.

"You up for a walk?" asked Jack over his shoulder.

"That depends. Got anywhere special in mind?"

"How about…home? A nice, warm bed in the infirmary, and all the Tylenol 3's and Jell-o you can get eat?"

Daniel actually groaned at the thought. "I'm all yours—lead on."

"If I had a nickel…" Jack muttered under his breath.

"What?"

"Nothing," Jack replied. "Think you can walk?"

Daniel attempted to get to his feet on his own, but he'd stiffened up as he'd slept and his muscles refused to obey him. Before he could even ask, Jack had come to his aid, gently grasping him around the waist to steady and support him. It might have been his weakened state making him overly sensitive, but Daniel was overcome with a wave of gratitude so strong it made his eyes water.

"Sorry. Did I hurt you?" asked Jack.

"No, I'm fine."

"Right. Of course you are," Jack replied sarcastically. "And the tears in your eyes are tears of joy."

"Shut up, Jack," Daniel groused. It wasn't much of a comeback, he knew, but it was the best he could come up with under the circumstances, and it seemed to do the job.

The walk back to the Stargate was agonizingly slow. Daniel's vision hadn't improved at all since he'd woken up and his wounds made walking on his own impossible. Add to that Jack's super-cautious safety measures, and the sun was high overhead before they made it to the forest's edge near the Stargate. Jack pulled Daniel down into a crouch and scoped out the area. There were still only two Jaffa guarding the 'gate, but that didn't necessarily mean there weren't others patrolling the perimeter.

Ten long minutes of watching and planning and Jack finally decided to make his move. "I'm going in, Daniel. Stay here, I'll be back in a minute."

Jack was gone before Daniel could protest. Left alone—again—Daniel found himself on the verge of panicking. He kept telling himself that it wasn't the same as last time. For one thing, this time he could hear what was going on, and Jack had at least been able to assure him he'd return. But that didn't stop him from cowing to irrational fear. Jack had promised he would never leave him alone like that. He'd _promised_. It didn't matter that it was the only logical and tactically sound thing to do—Jack had made a promise.

The sound of four zat blasts in quick succession made fear zing through Daniel, leaving a metallic tang on his tongue. He desperately wanted to call out, just to make sure Jack was still standing, and as the seconds stretched on, the urge became overwhelming.

"Jack!" he shouted, finally giving in to his fear, and not giving a damn if a battalion of Jaffa heard and opened fire on him.

"Jesus! Keep it down, will ya?" said Jack from directly behind him. He was breathing hard, and Daniel figured he must have run there and back.

"You left me," said Daniel, hating the peevishness that coloured his voice.

"I got back as soon as I could, Daniel," said Jack. "You know I had no choice."

"I know," Daniel admitted quietly.

"We're almost there, Danny. There were only two Jaffa—looks like Baal's boys did all the work for us," said Jack. He helped Daniel to his feet and together they picked their way down to the Stargate.

Jack dug his GDO out of his jacket pocket as they neared the DHD. He was all set—they were home-free, just a few steps away from the SGC and life could go back to normal again. He'd already punched in the address for home and his hand was hovering over the central crystal when he suddenly stopped.

"Jack…? What's wrong?" asked Daniel, when he didn't hear the familiar whoosh of the event horizon springing to life when it should.

"Nothing's wrong," Jack answered flatly.

"Then what are you waiting for?"

Jack sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, thinking hard about his next move. It might be stupid and impulsive, but Jack had to know—and hell, everyone knew Jack had impulse issues. "We need to talk."

"What…now?" asked Daniel in disbelief. "We're a few feet from home and you want to talk _now_?"

"Exactly!" Jack agreed. "All I have to do is press one more button and we're back at the SGC, with Fraiser and Hammond and everyone else fussing over us for God knows how long. If we don't talk now, it could be days before we get the chance. And we both know that if we don't talk about it soon, we won't talk about it at all."

"There's nothing to talk about, Jack," said Daniel. "And don't roll your eyes at me."

"You saw that?" Jack asked hopefully.

"No—I just know you," Daniel answered.

"Yeah, well…maybe you don't know me as well as you think," Jack said impetuously. "That dream you had…"

"Jack, we already talked about that—I told you, it was just a dream. It didn't mean anything."

"See? That's what I'm having a problem with," said Jack emphatically. "One dream, one time, I could pass off as a bad slice of pizza before bedtime; but you had the dream lots of times, and it obviously _does_ mean something, or you wouldn't have gone to Doc Fraiser for help. So the question is which part of the dreams scared you so much that you felt you had to put a stop to them? Was it the bit with all the kissing and stuff, or was it the bit where I turned into a Goa'uld and tried to kill you?"

Daniel was silent for a moment, wishing he could see so he could press the central crystal on the DHD and get the hell out of there. "What do you want me to say?" he finally asked.

"I want you to tell me the truth."

"No…I don't think you do," Daniel answered softly.

"Yes, I do, Daniel; because if we walk through that wormhole and continue on the way things are now, it's not going to work."

"What's not going to work?"

"This! Us, the team—SG-1," Jack spouted. "I can't just go on the way things were before and pretend nothing happened. I've been going nuts ever since I watched us together in that dream of yours!"

"Why? Because it scared you?" Daniel asked, his mouth suddenly dry.

"Because it should have, but it didn't!" Jack answered in a near-shout. "So tell me, did the dream mean anything to you? Do _I_ mean anything to you?"

"Of course you mean something to me! What kind of question is that?"

"You now what I meant," Jack barked.

"And if I say 'no'?" asked Daniel, his jaw set firmly.

"Then we shake hands like good friends and we put all this behind us," Jack answered confidently.

Daniel hesitated before quietly suggesting, "And if I say 'yes'?"

"Then…we shake hands like good friends, and maybe…maybe we could try some of that other stuff," Jack finished lamely.

Daniel's eyebrows shot skywards. "You can't be serious!"

"I think—I think maybe I am," Jack mumbled. The conversation was getting a little too intense—Daniel was supposed to cave and admit his feelings, and Jack was supposed to let him down gently and give him the old 'we can still be friends' spiel. Only it hadn't worked out that way. Daniel's stubborn refusal to play along spurred Jack into saying things he'd never intended to say, and suddenly that hidden corner of his psyche where he kept his feelings carefully buried, wasn't so much hidden as it was riding on a float, waving a rainbow flag and singing show tunes. "You know, you were right—this isn't the best time to talk about this," said Jack, and he pressed the central crystal on the DHD.

As the event horizon kawooshed into existence, Jack half-dragged his protesting team-mate towards the Stargate and home.

"Jack, stop—we haven't resolved anything here!"

"No time to chat—isn't that what you said? Besides, Janet's got a bed with your name on it, and that Jell-o isn't going to eat itself." Jack punched his IDC into the GDO and waited impatiently for the couple of seconds it took to receive the green light. Daniel looked like he was about to start arguing again, so Jack gave him a shove and sent him tripping through the 'gate ahead of him.

* * *

Hammond and Teal'c were in the gate room when Sergeant Harriman called the unscheduled off-world activation alarm. Teal'c had arrived back from his mission with Bra'tac only moments before, and looked slightly out of place in his traditional Jaffa robes as the usual stream of armed SF's poured into the gate room and took up defensive positions around the ramp.

If Teal'c was surprised when Harriman announced it was SG-1's IDC, he didn't show it. As the iris scissored open, he stood at ease, his hands clasped comfortably behind his back, and as a result, he was unprepared when Daniel Jackson lurched onto the platform. If it hadn't been for his highly-trained reflexes, Daniel would have fallen face-first onto the metal ramp. It appeared that his young friend was being pursued, and when Colonel O'Neill appeared through the wormhole moments later, Teal'c nearly shot him with his zat gun, thinking he was the enemy.

Within seconds Teal'c had assessed the situation. Daniel was seriously injured and clearly perturbed, but was in no immediate danger. He and O'Neill had apparently had one of their arguments, but O'Neill's apologetic wince suggested that their less-than-balletic entrance had not been intentional or malicious. He also noted the way his injured colleague was struggling to free himself from his supporting arms, and the blankness in his eyes, and determined he was unable to see.

"You are safe, Daniel Jackson," Teal'c uttered in his soothing, baritone voice.

"Teal'c?" Daniel asked, his face turning up towards the other man's face.

"It is I," Teal'c confirmed.

Hammond motioned for the SF's to stand down and approached the ramp. "Colonel O'Neill? Weren't you travelling with Thor?"

"Long story, sir," O'Neill said as he clambered down the metal grid. "If it's okay with you, I'd like to get Daniel down to the infirmary, and then hit the showers."

"Of course," Hammond agreed amiably and then turned his attention to Dr. Jackson, whom Teal'c refused to let out of his grasp, despite the man's squirming. The general forced his expression to harden somewhat as the sight of SG-1's errant archaeologist. Daniel Jackson had become as much a part of his life as his own family, and he was overjoyed to see him…which made it all the more difficult to do what he had to do. "Welcome back, Doctor Jackson," he said stiffly.

"General," Daniel replied to the cool greeting with a lopsided smile.

"We need to have a little talk," said Hammond.

"That sounds ominous," said Daniel with a quirking of his lips, unaware of the grave look the general was giving him.

"It should," Hammond answered crisply. "Do you have any idea how much trouble you're in?"

The smile slid off Daniel's face and he sobered instantly—he'd been through so much over the last couple of weeks that he'd almost forgotten some of the things he'd done to accomplish his 'mission'.

"We'll discuss it later," Hammond added, his voice softening despite himself in response to the devastated look on the younger man's face. "Colonel O'Neill's right—you should be in the infirmary, son. Our talk can wait until you're feeling up to it."

With the aid of both Teal'c and Jack, Daniel was escorted out of the gate room. Hammond watched the trio leave, shaking his head. It was at times like these that he wished he wasn't saddled with the burden of command. If it weren't for Woolsey and the damned NID breathing down his neck, Hammond would have been more than happy to let the matter drop. Sadly, the Powers That Be were demanding blood in order to deter any future acts of insubordination on the part of SGC's front line team.


	14. Chapter 14

* * *

Daniel was sick of the prodding. Every waking minute since he'd arrived back at the SGC he'd been poked and pricked, drugged and bandaged—and that was just Janet's contribution. Teal'c and Sam had both been in numerous times, prying into the incidents that led to his current state and filling him in on the latest Intel on Anubis' bomb. Usually it took a direct order from Fraiser to get them out of the infirmary so he could get some rest. Hell, even Harriman had come in to visit him, even though Daniel had zatted him during his escape through the 'gate.

Actually, the only one who hadn't made an appearance was Jack. Not that Daniel was upset…okay—maybe he was a little upset. But he was definitely not surprised by his CO's absence. He understood Jack's need for distance right now, and he also knew that forcing the issue would only serve to push Jack further away.

Daniel had made a real mess of things with Jack, he knew, and he'd be lucky if he'd be able to salvage even a fragment of their former friendship. He wasn't fooling himself—Jack's words, even his actions, back on Baal's planet, couldn't be taken at face value. The man was confused and no doubt thought that because of his dreams Daniel now expected more out of him than mere friendship. His fumbling attempts at flirting were sweet gestures, but there was no way Daniel could take them seriously…no matter how much he wanted to.

Between the endless tests and the friendly visits, Daniel still managed to find time to worry about Jack. But despite two days of agonizing over their endangered relationship, he still had no idea what to say to Jack if and when the man finally worked up the courage to visit him. Assuming, of course, that Jack hadn't already visited—Daniel's eyesight had improved slightly, but everything was still pretty much just one big, colourful blur. For all he knew, Jack could be standing ten feet away from him and he wouldn't know unless he made a noise.

Daniel's musings were cut short, as usual, by the arrival of the petite, yet fearsome, Janet Fraiser. "Please tell me you're not here to run more tests," Daniel pleaded.

"Okay," Janet agreed readily, "I'm not here to run more tests. You're being released." Daniel was half-off the bed before she could stop him. "Ah-ah! Not so fast. I'm releasing you on the condition that you agree not to be left alone until your vision is fully restored."

Daniel groaned—all he wanted was a little time alone, and now it looked like he would be saddled with a chaperone for God knew how long. "I'll be fine on my own," Daniel complained, knowing it was pointless arguing, but determined to try, regardless.

Janet held a hand up in front of his face and waved it. "How many fingers?" she asked.

Daniel squinted a bit and took a wild guess. "Three?"

"Nice try. Until you can tell the difference between a gun and a banana, I want someone with you. Understood?"

Daniel grumbled some more and slid carefully off the bed, mindful of his injured thigh, for Janet's benefit more than his own.

"Ah—you're ride is here," said Janet, stepping aside.

For a moment, Daniel's breath caught in his throat, thinking it was Jack who'd come to collect him—just like he'd done countless times before. But as the blurry figure got nearer, he was able to make out the blonde hair and shorter stature and realised it was Sam, and she was wielding a wheelchair. Janet was right, he thought—his eyesight wasn't nearly good enough for him to be left on his own.

Daniel mustered up a convincing smile for his friend. "Sam! It…it is Sam, right?" he added jokingly.

"That's me—Sam's seeing-eye-dog and taxi service."

A more genuine smile spread across Daniel's face—he may have been hoping for Jack, but Sam always knew how to cheer him up. "Do I have to use the wheelchair?" he whined.

"Yes, you do," Janet insisted immediately.

Daniel and Sam both had to smother their grins, but Daniel failed miserably—this was business as usual, and _damn, _it felt great.

Sam wheeled him to the locker room and stood just outside the door as he fumbled his way into his street clothes. All the while she kept up a continuous stream of chatter about the upgrades she and the Tok'ra had developed to detect Anubis' stealth bomb. She was convinced that with the new sensors online the SGC would be able to detect the transmission of a bomb through their 'gate, should Anubis attempt to sent another one to Earth.

Only half of what she said made it through to Daniel's brain. He could tell she was excited, and expected him to be excited as well, but he just couldn't muster up the energy to care at the moment. The idea of going home to his own bed, surrounded by his books and belongings made his head reel in anticipation. It suddenly occurred to him that his spare room didn't have a bed in it yet, and his couch was so uncomfortable it could be declared an implement of torture.

"Uh…Sam? Just out of curiosity, where, exactly, were you planning on sleeping tonight?" he asked as he limped out of the locker room and sat back down in the wheelchair.

"Me?" she asked, confused by the question. "At home, in my bed. Why?"

"Then…am I staying at your place?" Daniel asked.

"Didn't Colonel O'Neill talk to you?"

"Uh, that would be 'no'," Daniel answered pointedly.

"The colonel's arranged for you to stay with him until you're on your feet again."

"So then, right now you're taking me…?" Daniel prompted.

"To the Briefing Room to see General Hammond," she replied. "Sorry, Daniel, I thought you knew what was going on."

Daniel said nothing. He had been hoping Hammond had decided to forgo their little talk, and the thought of facing a formal reprimand now, when he was nearly home free, was like getting a boot to the stomach.

"Right. Hammond," Daniel sighed at last.

"Don't worry, Daniel," Sam said. "It's not like the general's going to fire you or anything."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that, Sam. I really messed up this time."

"You saved the colonel's life!" she argued.

"That may not be enough to save my neck this time," Daniel replied grimly. They'd arrived at the Briefing Room where Hammond, Teal'c and O'Neill sat waiting. Carter wheeled him up to the table, refusing to let him walk even the short distance from the door to the chair.

Hammond waited until the newcomers were settled and then cast his steely eyes over the group. "As you all know, Woolsey and the NID have been keeping very close tabs on the SGC and of SG-1 in particular. They're looking for any excuse to effect drastic changes in the command of this facility, and Doctor Jackson's direct insubordination and disregard for orders is exactly the sort of thing that gets these people salivating.

"Now I know Doctor Jackson's actions resulted in the destruction of Anubis' power source and saved the lives of both Colonel O'Neill and the Tok'ra operative, but I cannot let this one go without giving the NID exactly what they need to make their case to the president.

"I'm afraid I have no choice: Doctor Jackson, I am hereby suspending you from active duty for a period of three weeks without pay, commencing, retroactively, from the day of the offence."

Daniel, who'd kept his head lowered until that point, suddenly sat bolt upright, a look of utter disbelief on his face. With the retroactive head-start, his three week suspension would be over in four days—it was a slap on the wrist, and they all knew it.

"I'll be expecting you back at the mountain on Monday morning. And Daniel," Hammond paused, his voice full of warmth, "I want you back well-rested, is that understood?"

"Yes, sir," Daniel said, doing his best to curb his smile. "Thank-you, sir."

"Just glad to have you back in one piece, son," Hammond said softly. "Dismissed, everyone."

Hammond, Carter and Teal'c each gave Daniel their own version of a celebratory high-five, varying from a friendly pat on the back from Sam to a deep bow from Teal'c. They then took their leave, which left Daniel and Jack alone together for the first time since they'd returned to the mountain.

"So…" said Daniel, breaking the ice. "Your place?"

Jack hesitated. "Um, yeah…about that…"

"Jack?" he asked warily.

"You know, this weekend I've got a lot to do," said Jack. "You know how it is—been gone a while, and there's so much I need to catch up on. Groceries, lawn, bills…that sort of thing…" he trailed off.

"I see," Daniel said resignedly.

"Don't get me wrong," Jack added hastily, "normally I'd love to have you over. It's just…"

"Groceries. Lawn. That sort of thing."

"Yeah, that sort of thing," Jack said, starting to feel like a first-class bastard. He couldn't help it if he wasn't ready for 'the talk', and if Daniel couldn't understand that, then he wasn't as good a friend as Jack believed.

"Okay," Daniel agreed glumly. "Can you at least drop me off at my place on your way home?"

Jack sucked in a hiss through his teeth. "Can't do that, I'm afraid," he said guiltily. "Doctor's orders were to release you only under my supervision. But you'll only be stuck in the infirmary for a few more nights—that's not so bad, is it?"

"Ah," said Daniel, lifting his finger in the air in argument, "but General Hammond's orders were for me to return to work on Monday well-rested. And we both know I can never get a decent night's sleep in the infirmary."

"You do realise how pathetic an argument that was, don't you?"

"Please, Jack?" Daniel pleaded, throwing in a few bats of the old eyelashes for good measure.

"Fine," said Jack, caving shamelessly under the assault of Daniel's big blue eyes. "But if you go setting your house on fire, you're facing Janet on your own."

"Thanks a lot," Daniel groused.

"Hey—that's the price of freedom. Take it or leave it," said Jack as he took control of Daniel's wheelchair, pushing him out into the corridor and on to said freedom.

* * *

After Jack had dropped him off, carefully having avoided any attempts at conversation along the way, Daniel did his best to settle back into his own place again. It was far more difficult than he'd thought it would be, navigating through spaces that should have been familiar, but now seemed foreign and hostile. Everything he tried to do was so much harder without his eyesight. Simple things like making his way across the living room to open his window and let in some fresh air became a foray into an obstacle course of sharp-edged furniture and breakable artefacts. It took all of ten minutes alone in his house to decide that he should have stayed in the infirmary.

The thought of attempting to cook something for dinner almost made him laugh—he'd probably end up slicing his fingers off or eating something with an expiry date from the last century. In the end, he ordered a pizza, and judging by the overly-enthusiastic thanks he got from the delivery girl, he'd over-tipped. A lot.

Daniel ate in silence, sitting in his dark living room and staring out at nothing. There was no sense turning on the television, and he couldn't make out the buttons on his CD player to put on some music. Hell, he couldn't even see well enough to find the light switch! He'd give anything to be able to work on some of the translations that had been piling up on him, or even to simply pick up a book and read something—anything!

For the first time since losing his eyesight, Daniel began to wonder what would happen if he never got it back again. Vague shapes and blobby colours weren't much use to someone who relied on his vision to make out detailed print for a living. Somehow Daniel doubted the Goa'uld had left behind handy Braille versions of their writing for his benefit. It struck him hard as he realised that his usefulness at the SGC would pretty much be at an end. And what was worse, he couldn't even fall back on his first love—archaeology—to pay the bills.

His pizza lost its flavour, suddenly, and he had to force himself to swallow the cardboard-textured bite still in his mouth. Daniel could feel despair creeping up on him, almost like a physical presence in the room. It would be so easy to give in to it—to wallow in it—but he had a real fear that if he didn't fight it now, he might slip into a depression from which there would be no escape. His past was too dark and his pain too deep to ever be allowed to surface entirely. Images of a lifetime spent in MacKenzie's rubber room flashed before his eyes and Daniel fought twice as hard to reign in his emotions.

With no one to talk to and nothing to do, Daniel headed off to bed, where he dreamed of Jack and Shau'ri, and the cruel way fate had of destroying his happiness with both of them.

Daniel awoke to the sound of his phone ringing. He stumbled out of bed, barking his shin painfully on the edge of his bedside table, and felt his way into his living room, cursing in Ancient as he went. It took a minute to find the phone, and as soon as he picked it up, it went dead.

"Damn it!" he yelled and slammed the phone back down onto the table. Awake three minutes, and already he was having a bad day. He needed coffee, he decided—lots of coffee—and he carefully picked his way around his furniture until he reached the kitchen. His stomach rumbled loudly, and Daniel considered heating up the leftover pizza that was still sitting in the living room. But he had his priorities—coffee came first.

It turned out that making coffee topped the list of things that were damned hard to do blind. It took forever to measure the grounds and fill the carafe with just the right amount of water, but he did it, and the machine was just beginning to percolate when someone knocked on the door.

"Damn it," he mumbled—he was still in his boxers, and he _really_ didn't feel like entertaining at the moment. He figured that if he stayed quiet long enough, then whoever was at the door would give up and leave. He figured wrong.

"Daniel! Open up—I know you're in there!" Jack's familiar voice shouted from the other side of his front door.

Daniel hesitated. He had to let Jack in, or he'd assume the worst and break the door down. But Jack was the last person Daniel wanted to see, especially wearing nothing but boxers.

"Daniel!" Jack shouted again, pounding on the door.

Daniel decided 'to hell with it', and went to the door, swinging it wide open. Standing there, bare-chested and bare…well, practically everything else…for Jack and the entire neighbourhood to see, he calmly said, "Jack, how nice of you to drop in."

Jack's jaw hung open uselessly for a moment before he regained the use of his brain and pushed past Daniel and into his house. "You look awful, Daniel," Jack said in an attempt to cover his blatant staring with an air of concern. It fell kind of flat.

"Well, maybe if you hadn't woken me up at the crack of dawn," Daniel said, gesturing to the near-dark sky.

"Dusk."

"What?"

"Crack of dusk," Jack stated. "It's 18:00 hours, Danny. When you didn't answer your phone…"

"Six o'clock?" Daniel exclaimed. "I slept the entire day!"

"Must have needed it," Jack suggested.

"I guess I did,' Daniel agreed and rubbed his stubbled chin. "Not to be rude, Jack, but…what are you doing here? Not here to talk, I presume."

"There's nothing to talk about, remember?" When he saw Daniel steaming and about to blow, he held up his hand and cut him off. "Anyways, that's not why I'm here. We've been called back to the mountain."

"Oh? What for?" asked Daniel, still irked at Jack's comment, and wishing he had that coffee right now to take the edge off.

"Jacob popped by for a visit this afternoon. Seems we've got a bomb to defuse," said Jack. "Go get dressed. I'll wait for you in the truck."

Daniel was about to protest, but Jack was off down his walkway before he could open his mouth, and he wasn't about to follow him dressed as he was. With a heavy sigh and a whole lot of bad-tempered grumbling, he headed back inside to get dressed.


	15. Chapter 15

* * *

"Gentlemen, sorry to call you in on your down-time. Please, have a seat," said General Hammond with a ghost of a frown. It was good to have both Daniel and Colonel O'Neill here and in one piece, and he wanted to keep it that way. These two men had both put their lives on the line to protect Earth from Anubis' bomb, and Hammond didn't like the thought of putting them at risk again.

Jack took a seat across from Jacob, and helped Daniel into the seat next to him. "Okay, we're here. Mind telling us what this is all about? You said we had another bomb to defuse."

"Not another bomb—the same bomb," said Jacob. "When the Tok'ra received word yesterday that Anubis was already rebuilding the weapon's power source, we doubled our efforts in disarming the bomb he'd already sent through our 'gate. We couldn't risk it being reactivated once the new power source is up and running."

"So…the bomb in my head is still alive and ticking?" asked Jack, his eyes narrowing suspiciously at the human/Tok'ra half-breed.

"In essence, yes," Jacob confirmed.

"Ya think somebody could have told me that _before_ I went traipsing across the galaxy to go Daniel hunting?"

Daniel raised his eyebrows at that but said nothing—it was the closest Jack had come to acknowledging his existence in front of others since their return home, and he didn't want to rock the boat.

"Don't worry, Jack," Jacob said. "The bomb is inert without its power source. But as soon as Anubis rigs up a new one…"

"What do you need?" asked Hammond, getting right to the point.

"We've managed to adjust our memory devices to allow outsiders access to a person's subconscious mind. We'll be able to enter Jack's dreams and disarm the bomb in his head. It's the only way to do it, so far as we know. So all we need is the isolation and observation rooms we had before, and we can get started."

"We?" asked Jack, scanning the room as if expecting more Tok'ra to pop out of hiding.

"It's a two-man job, and even with two people working on it, it could take some time," said Jacob.

"Again… 'We'?" Jack asked with an expansive wave of his hand.

"Doctor Jackson and myself," Jacob explained. "Daniel's seen the bomb in your dreams already, and it certainly helps that he's fluent in Goa'uld. Between the two of us, we should have you bomb-free by morning," Jacob said with a grin.

* * *

"Tell me again why Daniel's here," Jack complained for the third time as Jacob hooked him up to the Tok'ra memory device.

"I already explained why," Jacob replied, casting a glance at Daniel, who was standing in the doorway, in time to see the other man flinch at Jack's callous remark.

"Need I remind you that Daniel can't see worth a damn right now? How's he gonna be able to help you?"

Jacob rolled his eyes at the colonel. "It's a _dream_, Jack. He'll be able to see just fine." He had to shove Jack in order to get him to lie down on the cot. "Now, shut up and go to sleep."

"What—no bedtime story?" Jack whined.

"Don't push it," said Jacob, and he led Daniel out of the isolation room, flicking off the lights on the way out.

"What now?" Daniel asked as he and Jacob got comfortable in the observation room.

"Now," said Jacob, turning on the holographic monitor, "we watch and wait."

Nearly five hours later, after sitting through some of the strangest and scariest dreams imaginable, Jacob finally spotted the bomb. This time was different than the first—they weren't at Jack's cabin with a lake full of dead Daniels—this time they were in a blast-flattened patch of greenery, and the bomb was strapped to the chest of a dream Daniel, who was bedraggled and bloody and pinned to the ground by two long bamboo shoots. Jack stood next to him, hovering uncertainly.

"Okay, we're up," said Jacob, slapping Daniel on the shoulder—the bad one.

"Ow," Daniel winced. He couldn't make out what was happening on the monitor, so he had to take Jacob's word for it that it was time to go in. Taking a steadying breath, he placed the memory device against his temple, and flinched as it dug sharply into his flesh.

He was instantly transported into Jack's dream, alongside Jacob. He had the bizarre sensation that he wasn't entirely touching the ground. "Okay—this is weird," he said, taking a tentative step forward in this strange virtual-world.

"It takes a minute to get used to," Jacob whispered, as if he didn't want to disturb Jack…or maybe it was the bomb he was worried about. Perhaps, here in the subconscious, the bomb was particularly volatile—a thought that sent shivers shooting up and down Daniel's spine.

"Danny! Jacob!" Jack shouted when he was them. "C'mere and help me out, would ya?"

Daniel's heart took a sickening lurch, convinced that the sudden noise would set off the bomb. "Shh! Jack—the bomb!" he said in a stage whisper.

"Yeah, I noticed," Jack replied drolly. "Think you can give me a hand with it?"

Jacob shrugged at Daniel and led the way. They stopped at dream Daniel's feet, the unconscious man's skin starkly pale against the splatters of blood and dirt—pale to the point of looking waxy.

"Jesus, Jack—did I really look this bad?" asked Daniel.

"I thought you were dead, Danny," Jack answered quietly, giving him a look so packed with raw emotion that it made Daniel take a step back in surprise.

"Danny, help me with this," Jacob said, snapping Daniel out of his thoughts. Together they knelt on either side of the dream Daniel, their hands poised over the bomb. "Very gently, now, lift it straight up. Don't tilt it, whatever you do!"

Daniel did as he was asked, slowly raising the bomb off the chest of his dream-self. Jacob examined the outer casing, his frown deepening.

"What's wrong?" asked Daniel.

"This one looks different than the one found in our operative. It's less…complicated. There're no seams to pry open, no buttons or keypads, and no writing on the casing."

"Yeah, I noticed that, too," said Daniel, chewing at the inside of his cheek as he concentrated on the bomb.

"You'd think they'd just put a big ole off switch on the damned thing," Jack piped up, leaning over Daniel's shoulder to get a closer look.

Daniel and Jacob looked at each other, sharing the same thought.

"Nah—it couldn't be that easy," Jacob muttered and motioned Daniel to lift the bomb higher so he could peer underneath. There, on the bottom, was a big, red on/off switch. "Well, I'll be!" he exclaimed with a laugh. "Leave it to Jack's subconscious to make the job as simple as possible," he said, and he snapped the switch into the 'off' position. The device gave a pathetic winding-down whine and stopped glowing.

"That's it?" asked Daniel incredulously.

"Yep, that's it," Jacob confirmed. "One bomb, successfully defused. Now, I'll leave you two to defuse the other bomb."

"Other bomb?" asked Daniel.

"The one that's been hanging over your heads, ready to go off any second," said Jacob. When Jack and Daniel continued to stare at him blankly, he added, "Talk. Get it out in the open—and don't come back until you've resolved the issue." At this point he held up a warning finger to both of them. "And you _know_ what I'm talking about, so don't play innocent."

Jacob suddenly blinked out of existence, leaving Jack and Daniel alone in Jack's subconscious mind. Daniel raised an eyebrow at him and wrapped his arms around his waist.

"Jack?"

"Daniel?"

"Is there something you wanted to…oh, I dunno…talk about, perhaps?"

"Yeah. Did you happen to catch the hockey game last night? 'Cause I missed it," Jack said, deadpan.

"Somehow I don't think that's what Jacob had in mind when he told us to talk," said Daniel.

"And how's he gonna know what we're talking about?" asked Jack with a smug grin.

Daniel gave him a 'think about it' look and pointed at the dream-sky.

"Ah, right—the hologram thingy," said Jack, the smug grin wiped off his face. Feeling uncomfortably like a character in 1984, Jack rocked up and down on the balls of his feet and shoved his hands deep into his pockets. This was one conversation he really didn't want an audience for.

Daniel could almost see the walls forming around Jack—complete with a honkin' big 'Keep Out' sign. This was going to be a hell of a long night if he didn't make the first move, he thought. "Look, this is all my fault," Daniel said, his shoulders slumped. "I'm sorry." He fixed Jack with a defeated look—if Jack wanted a nice, easy way out, he'd give it to him.

"Now why would you think this is your fault?" asked Jack.

"Simple—it was my dream that started all this," Daniel stated matter-of-factly, waving his hand between the two of them helpfully.

"Yeah, but if it wasn't for me, you wouldn't have had that dream in the first place." As Jack spoke, the dream images shifted and blurred before coalescing into another familiar setting.

"This is the cave from my dream," said Daniel, checking it out.

"No—not from your dream," Jack said mysteriously, and he nodded his head towards the lip of the cave where dream-versions of Jack and Daniel appeared as if summoned out of nowhere.

The dream Daniel was gazing in captivation at the setting sun, his features glowing with the warm amber light of sunset. "Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?" he asked.

The dream Jack, his eyes riveted on his team-mate, answered honestly. "No, I don't think I have." He then quickly turned his gaze out towards the ocean as Daniel eyed him suspiciously.

The two apparitions disappeared just as they'd been summoned, and Jack turned to look at Daniel, his eyes wary.

"What?" asked Daniel, not sure what he was supposed to be seeing. "That's from my dream—that's what happened in my dream."

"No, Daniel—that really happened," Jack admitted and cast his sad eyes to the floor of the cave.

Realisation dawned slowly. "So…I didn't just imagine it?"

"No," Jack answered softly.

There was a lengthy, awkward silence between them as Daniel worked out the timeline of their friendship under a whole new light, trying to figure out just how long ago the flirting had started. It was a bit of an eye-opener to realise that all those side-long glances, all those surreptitious touches Jack had indulged in for so many years, might have meant more to Jack than simple camaraderie.

"Would you say something? Please?" Jack pleaded. "It makes me nervous when you're this quiet."

Daniel's mouth flapped open and shut a few times, but he was at a complete loss for words. All this time he'd thought it was his dream that had started everything, but if what Jack said was true…

"Okay, if you're not gonna talk, I'll do it for you," Jack volunteered. "Gee, Jack, when did you first start lusting after me like a dog in heat?"

Daniel's eyes went even wider, if that was possible, and his mouth stopped flapping and simply hung open as if the hinge had broken.

Jack continued, answering his own question, complete with demonstrative hand gestures. "Well, Danny, let me see…I guess I've always been somewhat…curious, shall we say…when it comes to you. But I swear, I never thought of actually, uh, you know—_doing_ anything—with you, until that damned dream of yours. It was just so…_hot_." Jack's brown eyes flashed at him as if daring him to deny it.

By this point, Daniel's mouth had gone dust-bowl dry. It was beyond weird to hear Jack talk like this. Daniel guessed that it was the dream atmosphere that made it easier for Jack to say these things, 'cause there was no way in hell he'd have opened up like this in the real world. Still, dream or not, they were Jack's words, and he really seemed to mean it.

"You thought it was hot?" Daniel finally managed to say, the corners of his mouth lifting into a tenuous smile. Jack looked him straight in the eye, nodded, and mouthed the word 'hot' with a great deal of gusto.

Daniel cleared his throat and tried to think rationally. "I suppose that's understandable. After all, it's been a while since you've had a date, Jack. I have a feeling the sight of two hamsters having sex would probably be a turn on."

"Look, if you're not going to take this seriously," Jack warned, thoroughly enjoying being the mature one for a change.

"I am taking this seriously," Daniel spluttered. "But how do you know it wasn't just a normal, physiological response to a sexually charged image? I mean, honestly, Jack—have you ever even kissed a man before?"

"Have you?" Jack countered.

"That's not the point, Jack," Daniel argued.

"Exactly!" Jack said in triumph.

Daniel blinked rapidly at him, thinking he must have missed part of the conversation. "Excuse me?"

"I agree with you," Jack explained. "Past experience doesn't enter into it."

"But…how can you know you want this?" Daniel asked, starting to get frustrated.

"Well, you can't know until you try, right?" asked Jack, and he stalked closer to Daniel, who retreated until his back was pressed hard up against the cave wall.

Daniel tensed, his brain scrabbling to make some sort of sense out of what was happening. Jack didn't –couldn't—feel about him the same way he felt about Jack. It was just…impossible. And anyway, Daniel wasn't even 100 sure how he felt about Jack; until he'd had that dream, he'd never really thought about him that way. It was enough to throw his brain into overdrive, and as it buzzed and hummed and calculated the numerous and varied reasons why this couldn't be happening, Jack kissed him.

Daniel's brain screeched to a halt as it finally registered the fact that Jack's lips were pressed against his. They were warm lips—softer than they appeared, and more pliant—and Daniel knew that if he didn't start reciprocating soon they were going to be gone. And GOD, he didn't want that to happen!

Jack was just about to give up and pull away from him when Daniel snapped out of his stupor and kissed him back. With a fistful of Jack's shirt and a handful of Jack's ass, Daniel pulled the other man in tight and put everything he had into the kiss. He felt Jack sigh and melt against him, as easy and familiar as if they'd been doing it for years. It was perfect, and it was most definitely hot, but Daniel couldn't fight the fear that Jack didn't really want this…maybe in his dreams, but not _really_.

With a soft groan, Daniel forced himself to let go of Jack and break off the kiss. Jack's eyes, inky black and slightly dazed, blinked back at him, and he caressed Daniel's cheek in a way that was even more intimate than the kiss had been.

"Jack, are you sure about this?" Daniel whispered, fearing Jack would suddenly realise what he was doing and fly off the handle—afraid that it was time for the dream to turn nasty and for the Goa'uld to rear its ugly head.

"I knew you were going to say that," Jack said with a warm smile and cupped Daniel's face in his hands. "Daniel, do you trust me?"

Daniel's brows furrowed. "Of course I do. You know I do."

"Then trust me on this one. I've been fighting these feelings for a very long time. I forced them aside, came up with a million excuses to ignore them, even though my instincts were telling me that we were meant to be together. I think it's time I listened to my instincts."

"Well…your instincts _are_ usually right," said Daniel with a doubtful frown. "But when you're awake you might feel differently."

"I won't," Jack promised.

"Says Colonel REM sleep," Daniel muttered under his breath.

"Says ME," Jack said firmly. "Think of this as a trial run for the real thing—like riding a bike with the training wheels on. It's just…easier this way," he admitted quietly.

"What if you don't like it?" Daniel asked worriedly.

"I could ask you the same thing—but something tells me that's not gonna be a problem," Jack answered, and rubbed up against Daniel so they could both feel the arousal their kiss had caused. "Now stop talking before I forget where I left off."

Jack leaned in again, but instead of kissing the other man's lips, he ended up kissing a pair of raised fingers. He pulled back with a frustrated sigh—sometimes Daniel thought way too much.

"Hang on a second," Daniel said, then turned his eyes towards the cave's ceiling. "You can stop watching now, Jacob."

Jack grinned, realising that Daniel had no intention of turning him down again. "Yeah, Jacob—take a hike—this part of the conversation is classified."

* * *

As Daniel and Jack picked up where they'd left off…with far less hesitation and a good deal more groping…Jacob Carter grinned and switched off the monitor. He'd done his part; the rest was up to them. God help them. 


	16. Epilogue

* * *

The first thing Jack saw upon waking was a very concerned-looking Daniel squinting intently in his general direction. The younger man's pose said it all—arms tightly wrapped around his body, head down, a road-map of anxiety creasing his forehead. Jack knew exactly what was going on in his mind, and he decided to have a little fun.

"Daniel—I'm over here," Jack called, and Daniel jumped a bit.

"Jack! You're awake," said Daniel, cautiously approaching the spot where Jack's voice had come from.

"Glad to see those PHD's are working for ya," Jack snarked. "Euchh!"

"What? What's wrong?" asked Daniel.

"Oh, nothing," Jack answered grouchily. "Apparently I had a _really_ good dream, if you know what I mean. Damn!" he exclaimed, plucking the damp sheet away from his body.

"Then…you don't remember?" Daniel asked softly, his fingers picking nervously at his sleeves.

"What?"

"What?"

"Huh?"

"The dream—you don't remember the dream?" Daniel asked in exasperation.

"I never remember my dreams," Jack answered. "And anyways, if the aftermath is anything to go by, I have a feeling this was a dream I wouldn't go discussing in public."

Daniel's shoulders slumped a bit at his words and Jack immediately regretted yanking his chain. "Daniel…" he started.

But before he could get more than a word out, Jacob Carter knocked on the door and barged into the room. "Sorry to interrupt, fellas, but George is waiting to hear our reports."

Inwardly cursing Jacob's horrible timing, Jack climbed off the cot. Daniel was already out the door before his feet hit the ground, and Jack was about to follow when he remembered that he needed to change into a fresh pair of pants before he went anywhere.

He managed to catch up with them just as they were about to enter the Briefing Room. "Daniel—wait up, would ya?" Daniel pretended not to hear him and picked up his pace. His stupid little joke had really hit a nerve with Daniel, and he desperately wanted to set things straight with him. Jack jogged the last stretch of corridor, but didn't get there fast enough to stop Daniel and Jacob from entering the room. General Hammond, Carter, and Teal'c were already seated around the table—it was too late to say anything to him now.

"Gentlemen," Hammond greeted them as Jacob and Daniel took their seats at the table, taking the last two chairs on the side nearest the door. Jack, fully determined to sit next to Daniel, dragged a chair from around the other side of the table and promptly flanked the younger man. He didn't miss Daniel's purse-lipped glower as he settled in next to him.

"Thank-you once again, Doctor Jackson, for coming in on your free time and volunteering your help in this matter," said Hammond, formally noting, for the record, that the archaeologist was still on suspension.

Daniel nodded in return. "Glad I could help," he said, pointedly ignoring Jack, who was busy scribbling something on the notepad in front of him.

"Jacob, if you would be so kind as to start us off with your account of the bomb's deactivation?" asked Hammond.

Jack tuned them out at that point, intent on finishing his note to Daniel without the others noticing. When he finished, he discreetly slipped the notepad under Daniel's arm. He hoped that even if Daniel wouldn't listen, he might at least read his apology.

Annoyed, Daniel glanced down at the rectangular shaped white blur Jack had passed to him and turned to the other man, his eyebrows raised as if to say 'what are you—stupid?'

Jack all but smacked himself on the forehead when he remembered that Daniel couldn't see what he'd written. Still, he had to get the message across before the meeting was over and Daniel slipped out of his grasp again. As his brain concentrated on a way to get the other man's attention, he became aware of a lull in the conversation.

"Colonel?" Hammond prompted.

"Hmm?" Jack replied, still slightly preoccupied with Daniel.

Hammond's face darkened as he held his temper in check. "Care to give us your version of what happened in your dream?"

"He doesn't remember," Daniel answered for him, trying to sound helpful, even though Jack could hear the bitterness in his voice.

This was the chance Jack had been looking for. "Of course I remember, Daniel. How could I forget?" Jack couldn't help but smile at his friend's obvious surprise as he proceeded to give a highly detailed account of the bomb's defusing. As an added reassurance that he _did_ remember everything, Jack snaked his foot towards Daniel's and started playing footsie with him. To his relief, Daniel let him, and by the end of the meeting, he seemed much more relaxed. He even had that familiar spark in his eyes that Jack loved so much.

After Hammond had called an end to the meeting, Jack and Daniel lingered in the Briefing Room until they were the only ones left.

"So you remember? Everything?" asked Daniel.

"Everything," Jack assured him. "I was stupid; I shouldn't have teased you earlier; I'm sorry. But in my defence, you just looked so worried…I couldn't resist."

Daniel was quiet for a moment until at last he seemed to make up his mind and he nodded. As far as apologies went, it wasn't great, but it wasn't bad, considering it was Jack. "I guess, technically, I'm still on suspension. I don't suppose I could bug you for a ride home?"

"What, and have Janet come after me with the rubber glove? Uh-uh—you're coming home with me. Doctor's orders."

"You're sure? You're not going to change your mind again and leave me alone at home, alone, in the dark…all by myself? Did I mention the 'alone' part?"

"Yeah…about that," said Jack. "I guess I kind of freaked out a bit. Sorry." He chuckled.

"What?" asked Daniel, fighting his own smile—after all, he was trying to act wounded, and smiling would completely ruin the effect.

"It seems like I have a lot to apologise for," he answered.

"I can think of one or two ways you could make it up to me," Daniel said suggestively.

"You're not mad?"

Daniel rubbed the back of his neck as he thought. "I think we're going to have to expect some bumps along the way, Jack. This is a big change for both of us. But I think it's worth it. I think _you're_ worth it."

"You never cease to amaze me, Daniel."

"Wait 'til I get you home," Daniel leered, and held out his hand. Jack took it in his, and tucked it into the crook of his arm, Daniel's blindness providing the perfect cover to hold hands on base.

* * *

"Wakey-wakey, sunshine," came an annoyingly chipper voice from nearby.

Daniel moaned and yanked the blankets up over his head. He'd known Jack was an early bird, but it seemed unconscionable that the man should be so…peppy…at such an ungodly hour of the morning.

"I know you're in there," said Jack, peeling back the covers to reveal a blue eye that glared at him venomously. "Come on, Daniel. Monday morning, remember? We have a briefing at 08:00 hours. Now get a move on."

Daniel groused and grumbled, choosing Spanish as his rant-language for the day. Jack just smiled beatifically back at him. It was enough to make the complaints die on Daniel's lips.

It had been a surreal weekend, spent locked away in Jack's house. It was a weekend of discovery for both of them, and they had done more talking than touching as they worked through their feelings and their expectations for their new relationship. Moments of blind panic—of fearing to let go of the past—were countered with moments of such sweet tenderness that they were both left speechless. There was no doubt on either side that what they felt for each other was real and couldn't be ignored. But one of the first things they had agreed on was to take the physical part of the relationship slowly. They needed time to adjust and to explore, without high expectations or fear of rejection. The kissing had been good. Hell, it had been _fantastic_, and the same went for everything else they'd tried. The attraction was definitely there, but they were equally shy when it came to nudity, and so far they had only managed to get as far as frottage before one or the other backed off.

Daniel wasn't the least bit worried about it—the foundation was strong, and that was all that really mattered. And in the meantime, waking up in the same bed as Jack—being so close to him and knowing he would always be there—was turning out to be highly addictive. He found that he felt a gap in his soul whenever Jack was out of his sight, and it was going to be hard once they were back at the mountain and couldn't spend every minute of every day together.

Today was the big day. Daniel's eyesight was still a bit on the fuzzy side, but with his glasses on, he could see well enough to return to his duties. Things would have to return to normal—at the mountain, at least—and the fear of slipping up or getting caught out by someone at the SGC had forced them to come up with a plan. It was Jack's idea to head off any potential disasters down the line by confronting the big problem head on.

And so, half an hour before their briefing was to start, Jack and Daniel stood side by side, staring at General Hammond's office door. Daniel nudged Jack, giving him a look that said he could back out now, if he wanted to. Jack shook his head—he could do this! He'd saved the world a bunch of times—facing Hammond shouldn't be so difficult. Taking a deep breath, Jack rapped sharply on the door.

"Come in," Hammond called from inside.

Jack swung the door wide open and marched in confidently. Nope—no nerves here, he thought to himself, straightening his jacket as he unconsciously stood at attention. He felt, more than saw, Daniel come up beside him, and his close proximity went a long way in taming the snakes that were writhing in his stomach.

"Colonel, Doctor; what can I do for you?" asked Hammond, his hands folded calmly on the desk in front of him, a welcoming smile on his face.

Jack frowned and fidgeted with the buttons on his jacket—this would be a lot easier if Hammond didn't look so…peaceful. He couldn't help feeling like a cowboy staring down at his injured horse—looking into those big, innocent eyes and knowing he had to put a bullet between them.

"Sir," said Jack, eyes straight ahead, completely professional. "Daniel and I…what I mean to say is, uh…"Jack swallowed hard, squared his shoulders and started again. "Sir—Daniel and I have something we can't tell you." There; it was said—or unsaid, but in a very 'said' sort of way.

General Hammond's eyes shifted from his second in command to Daniel, who was subtly touching shoulders with him in support. "I take it this is something I can't ask you about, either?" Hammond asked, quickly putting the pieces together.

Jack nodded, grateful that he didn't need to elaborate in order to make his point. "It's really something you shouldn't know about, Sir."

"So you decided to not tell me, because…?" asked Hammond.

It was Daniel who answered. "We thought it was something you _should_ know about—better you don't hear it from us than from someone else."

"I see," said Hammond, his fingers drumming on his desk. "Does anyone else…not know about this?"

"No one," said Jack.

"Except Jacob Carter," Daniel interjected.

"Except him," Jack amended. "But I give you my word we'll keep it low-key, hush-hush, under the radar, over the rainbow…you name it."

"See to it that you do, Colonel," said Hammond. "Remember, we have big brother watching over our shoulders all the time. If word of this gets out, I'll have no choice but to deny we ever had this conversation. Understood?"

"What conversation, Sir?" asked Jack with a wink.

Hammond shook his head and sighed. "Dismissed," he said, but as O'Neill was halfway out the door, he stopped him. "Oh, and Jack?" he said, a knowing twinkle in his eye, "it's about time, son."

Jack grinned. All his worrying vanished with Hammond's blessing. Sure it wasn't going to be easy, but it was worth it. _Daniel_ was worth it. And for now he was just happy to be living the dream instead of fuelling the nightmare.


End file.
